


In which Harry doesn’t like Draco’s family, Draco tries to like Harry’s, no one likes Umbridge and Sirius doesn’t like anything about this

by dracorights



Series: The Owlery [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 95,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracorights/pseuds/dracorights
Summary: “It’s Draco," said Harry. "Er, Draco Malfoy."Ginny’s eyes went comically wide, while her parents, Sirius and Lupin only stared at Harry, without saying anything.Then Sirius broke into a laugh. “Oh, you had me there for a second,” he said, wiping a tear. He then looked at Harry’s serious expression and his grin fell. “You are joking."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: The Owlery [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763239
Comments: 633
Kudos: 1486





	1. August 2, Wednesday: A Bad Start...

> _‘If I had known I would have to spend my summer reading through the Prophet’s rubbish just to update a stubborn git who cancelled his subscription, I think I would have reconsidered a few choices, like dating the stubborn git.'_

Harry smiled, eyes fixed on the letter as he lightly swayed back on the swing. The heat of the day was finally retreating, but it also meant the light would be gone soon as well. He wanted to finish reading Draco’s letter before he had to return.

> _‘Nothing this week either, but even if something had happened, I’m sure they would have published an article on Fudge’s hat, or just called you another idiotic name instead._
> 
> _I mean, 'The Boy Who Lies’ is just lazy._
> 
> _They should hire me instead. I’m quite good with names, aren’t I, Scarhead?”_

Even with just the words, he could picture the white grin and posh draw perfectly. Harry sighed longingly, September couldn’t come quickly enough. Perhaps he could ask Draco to meet up in Diagon Alley once the list of books came out. 

> _‘I believe I have fulfilled my duties as a reporter, so I’ll attend to the other ones now'._

Harry could almost hear the small sigh after the words.

> _'Forgive my bluntness, but I do miss you. Apparently enough for it to show on my face since my mother asked me yesterday if I was feeling unwell. Quite embarrassing in this house, so in retribution I expect you to miss me as much._
> 
> _Do take care and avoid trouble. As funny as inflating your aunt might have been, I ask you not to repeat it. Unless you plan to invite me, that is._
> 
> _Yours truly,_
> 
> _Draco.'_

Harry let out a happy sigh as he pushed against the ground with his feet, leaning on the swing. He let his head rest on the rope and smiled, enjoying the moment.

Until it was ruined by the sound of harsh laugher approaching, that is. Recognizing the voices of Dudley and his friends, Harry sat up straight, dropping his smile for a neutral expression.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Dudley. He and his gang were sneering at Harry, but they didn’t wear it nearly as well as the Slytherins and that amused him. Dudley smirked, “What is that? A letter from your _boyfriend_?"

Harry laughed, startling the group. “You are completely right, Ickle Diddykins.” Harry folded the letter carefully and pocketed it. “It’s from my _boyfriend_. Because I do have one, not like any of you losers." 

The group seemed puzzled, staring at Dudley for guidance. His cousin gaped like a fish, probably caught between feeling offended by the nickname, or surprised by Harry’s admission. 

“I have a girlfriend!” protested one of his friends. The group turned to look at him. “I- I do, guys, she’s-" 

“Shut up!” cut in Dudley. “This _freak_ isn’t dating anyone. And if he is, it’s probably just another _freak_ like him."

Harry shook his head humorously. “Whatever you say, Diddykins." 

“Don’t call me that," snarled Dudley.

Harry shrugged. “That’s what your mom calls you." 

Dudley scowled at him before a malicious glint showed on his eyes. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, right?"

Harry’s good humour vanished. “Shut up." 

“I hear you every night,” continued Dudley. “Mom! Dad! Help me! Help me! He’s gonna kill me!"

His gang laughed behind him.

“Shut up, Dudley,” muttered Harry though his teeth.

“Where’s your _mommy_ , Harry?"

Harry stood up, hands clenching by his sides. But before he could do anything the light of the day vanished at once and a cold breeze travelled through the park. The gang looked around, fear on their faces, one of them yelling it was a storm and making the rest scurry away.

“What did you do?” asked Dudley fearfully.

“Nothing,” said Harry, concerned because the sudden change didn’t seem natural at all. He looked at his cousin seriously. “Let’s go." 

\---

The door slammed closed behind him, as Harry stormed into the room, fuming. With a loud curse, he kicked the bed, which instead of making him feel better ended up just startling Hedwig and making him feel guilty. He apologized and sat down on the bed. 

He had been expelled. His wand to be destroyed. Then he hadn’t been expelled _yet_. But what if he did get expelled? He would never return to Hogwarts, to Ron and Hermione. Nor to Draco.

Harry let himself plop down on his bed, his hand coming to rest next to the book he had left there. Harry picked it up, once again admiring the blue cover with the drawn Bard.

He had been surprised when Draco, of all people, gifted him a children’s book for his birthday. The blond had explained in his letter that the Tales were a matter of common knowledge, and he couldn’t let Harry remain ‘ _appallingly ignorant'._ And also that one of the tales had been inspired by Linfred of Stinchcombe, so Draco had thought Harry might be interested. 

Harry had been interested, but he would have prefered to hear the tales from the blond and his posh voice. The sole idea had been something that made him smile to himself a lot, but as he looked at the book now, he only felt desperate. If he got expelled, there was no telling what would happen.

With a sigh, he left his glasses on the table and curled beside the small book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: This is Part 2 of a Series!


	2. August 6, Sunday: Grimmauld Place

The envelope had been left alone on Harry’s desk since it arrived. He had recognized the elegant scrawl and frozen on the spot, feeling his stomach sink. Harry hadn’t replied to the last one yet, so Draco must have heard what happened, if not from the Prophet then from his father.

He must have been furious and wrote to Harry to say so, or perhaps even worse, he had written Harry to let him know it was over. Not wanting to confirm either, Harry kept staring at it from his bed without opening it. 

So it rested there, threatening, accusing and hiding Harry’s fate while he tried to keep as far away from it as possible in his small room. 

Despite all that, when he started hearing noises downstairs, well after the Dursleys had left town for some dumb event, Harry pocketed it quickly. 

\---

Grimmauld Place was an old house, dark, decadent and with an off-putting house-elf; and Harry loved it. He had spotted Sirius on a table surrounded by many others before Mrs Weasley had intercepted and directed him upstairs.

He was pulled into a hug as soon as he crossed the door by an anxious Hermione. Harry was surprised to see her and Ron there. His surprise grew to irritation when he discovered that not only had they been there for a while, they also knew about The Order.

“Couldn’t you have written that in a letter?” asked Harry, voice slightly raised in frustration. “I haven’t heard a scrap of news from you. If it weren’t for Draco I would have gone mad." 

“Wouldn’t it be the other way?” said Ron, immediately receiving a withering glance. “We wanted to tell you, mate." 

“Then why didn’t you?"

“Because Dumbledore made us swear that we wouldn’t,” confessed Hermione. 

Harry reeled back. “Dumbledore?"

His friends nodded. “We are sorry, Harry,” said Hermione.

“No,” said Harry, feeling confused. “It’s fine, I just don’t understand why he would do that. I mean, I was the one that was there when Voldemort returned." 

Ron grimaced at the name. “We don’t know, mate." 

Harry sighed and looked around the room. It was as decadent as the rest of the house, the green wallpaper starting to peel off. “So, how have-." 

A sudden pop startled him, followed by two different arms around his shoulders.

“Harry, we thought we heard your lovely voice,” said Fred.

“How are you liking the house?” asked George with a wink. “ _You_ better be used to it, right?"

Harry frowned in confusion. “What?"

Fred grinned. “I reckon he doesn’t know, George." 

“It sure seems that way, Fred,” said George. He straightened up and adopted a snobbish expression. “Tis the House of _The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_." 

“One of the largest, oldest and most intertwined _pureblood_ families,” continued Fred, accompanying the snobbish tone with a raised pinky. “All purebloods live like this Harry, so you better get used to dust and decapitated house-elves."

Hermione raised an eyebrow in amusement. “You do know you guys are purebloods too, right?"

George waved a hand in dismissal. “We aren’t part of the elite, the _creme of the creme_ ." He wiggled his eyebrows at Harry. “Unlike _your_ hunny-bunny. Right, Harry?"

Harry felt his face heat up as he looked at his friends accusingly.

“They didn’t tell us. Not directly,” said Fred, taking out a- “I present to you, _The Extendable Ears_. Quite useful for snooping." 

George leaned in to whisper theatrically. “They are still a prototype, but we might lend you a pair, for being our investor and all." He threw them at Harry. “So, why don’t we give them a try now?"

\---

During dinner, Mr Weasley explained Harry what his Disciplinary Hearing would entail and mentioned the peculiarity of the situation. “It’s to be in front of the entire _Wizengamot,_ ” he said, looking concerned. 

“But why?” asked Harry. From what he knew, the Wizengamot was a huge deal. 

Many people around the table shared uncomfortable glances.

“Well, Harry, you see-,” Mr Weasley paused, as if unsure. 

“Show him,” said Moody, startling Harry a bit. It was weird to think that he didn’t really know the man. “He’ll find out soon enough." 

Kingsley passed Harry a copy of The Daily Prophet while the table looked at him expectantly. Harry frowned at that and slowly opened it. There was a picture of him on the front page, under the title ‘ _The Boy Who Lies’._ Harry read through it, finding that the slander was just as bad as Draco had told him, and then looked up at the table. Judging from the confused expressions, his reaction hadn’t been what they expected. 

“Er, I knew about this,” explained Harry. “Not from Ron and Hermione,” he added when there were frowns directed at his friends. 

“I thought you had cancelled your subscription,” said Sirius with a slight frown. 

“I did,” said Harry. “Er, I heard from a friend." 

Fred and George snickered, “Yes, a _frieeeend_ ” cooed one of them. 

“Who’s your friend, Harry?” asked Tonks, a grin stretching her lips.

Feeling his face warm, Harry rushed to change the topic. “So, they are making my Hearing a big deal to, er, slander me further?"

“Yes, we believe so,” said Lupin, giving Harry an amused look. He cleared his throat and adopted a business-like expression. “Fudge’s been using his influence on the Daily Prophet to discredit you." 

“He’s been attacking Dumbledore too,” explained Sirius, face serious again. “As well as anyone else that claims the Dark Lord has returned." 

\---

Harry walked into the bedroom he would be sharing with Ron feeling frustrated by Fudge’s stupidity but relieved by Sirius' support of his intention to join in the fight against Voldemort. When he removed his jacket, the untouched envelope fell to the floor. Harry blinked at it, feeling dismayed again. 

“Has he really been writing to you every day?” asked Ron, sounding surprised. He picked the envelope up and frowned. “Mate, this is from the 3rd." 

Harry took it back. “I didn’t want to open it." He looked at Ron with a grimace. “What if he is mad at me?"

“I think he would have sent you a howler in that case,” huffed Ron, sitting next to Harry as he opened the letter. 

Instead of a dressing down, below Harry’s name was a line that relieved his tension.

> _‘Are you alright?’_

“He doesn’t seem angry to me,” mused Ron, snooping over Harry’s shoulder. Harry shoved him away to read the letter in peace.

> ‘ _Father told me you have a Disciplinary Hearing. I know you aren’t that much of a troll to use magic outside the school without reason, especially now that Fudge has a desperate campaign against you. What happened?_
> 
> _Do answer quickly, I have to admit I’m quite worried._
> 
> _Yours truly,_
> 
> _Draco_
> 
> _PS: Father mentioned the Hearing will be held in front of the Wizengamot. Fudge is trying a bit too hard, isn’t he?’_

“Mate, stop smiling like that,” groaned Ron.

Harry looked up at him without wiping the stupid grin off his face. “He’s not angry."

“Not _yet,_ ” pointed out Ron, grinning when Harry frowned at him. “You know, he might _actually_ send a howler if you don’t reply, like, right now." 

Harry grimaced. Draco _could_ do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments! See you next update!


	3. August 12, Saturday: Two Hearings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you all for your comments! I'll make sure to answer all of them! Just wanted to let you know that from now on I'll update every Monday and Thursday. 
> 
> This chapter is one of the long ones. Enjoy!

While Draco hadn’t been angry at him for landing himself a Hearing, he was slightly annoyed by the tardiness of Harry’s reply, judging by the amount of _‘gits’_ on his letter. But even that had been overshadowed by his anger about the dementor attack. The blond had written such a harsh opinion on Fudge that Harry was nervous about someone finding his letter and giving Draco his own Hearing.

Harry couldn't tell him he was staying with The Order since it was supposed to be a secret, so he just said he was staying with the Weasleys. Draco hadn’t commented on that, instead asking Harry how he was preparing for the Hearing. 

From what Mr Weasley had explained, he would have to retell the events of the attack in front of the Wizengamot and answer their questions. Harry had asked him if he would have a lawyer, coming to regret it when he had to spend an hour explaining the little he knew about the muggle justice system to an enthusiastic wizard.

The day of the Hearing, Harry received a short letter wishing him good luck.

> _'And I beg you, do not show up with your hair looking like a nest. They won’t find it endearing’_. 

Mrs Weasley almost dropped a plate when he walked into the kitchen. “Harry, your hair." 

“Does it look bad?” asked Harry as he sat on the table. He was afraid he had used too much Sleekeazy's, he only wanted to flatten it a bit.

Mrs Weasley blinked. “Oh, no dear. I’m sorry. It’s just very neat today." 

“Don’t be scared mom, he does this at Hogwarts too,” laughed Ron, biting into a sandwich. “Every day." 

“He’s _whipped,_ ” said George, shaking his head gravely. 

“A moment of silence for the bird who lost its nest,” said Fred.

“James was just like that,” said Sirius, giving Harry a wink. “Lily liked it a lot."

That only made the sibling’s snickering grow louder and Harry felt relieved when Mr Weasley walked in to tell him they were leaving. 

\---

Mr Weasley was waiting for him outside the courtroom and sighed in relief when Harry nodded at him. “I knew it would be alright,” said the man, giving him a pat on the back as they walked down the corridor.

“Dumbledore was there,” commented Harry. The Headmaster had ignored his attempts to talk to him, and that bothered him quite a lot. But knowing that he was cleared to return to Hogwarts made it impossible to feel angry at the moment. 

He was the first to notice the familiar shade of platinum hair when they doubled a corner but Mr Weasley quickly followed, his hand clenching over Harry’s shoulder. 

Lucius Malfoy stopped his conversation with Fudge, turning to look at them with disdain. The resemblance to his son was striking and Harry didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Well, well, Patronus Potter,” said Lucius coolly, his grey eyes studying him carefully. They were the same shade as Draco’s, but somehow completely different. “The Minister was just telling me about your lucky _escape_." 

What was Harry supposed to do in this situation? The man before him not only was a supporter of Voldemort, which made him Harry’s enemy, he was also, and this is where things got weird, the father of his _boyfriend_.

 _'Does that make him my in-law?_ ’ thought Harry, and then realised he hadn’t said anything yet. “Er, yes, sir." 

Mr Weasley looked at him weirdly until Lucius seemed to notice his presence.

“And Arthur Weasley too. What are you doing here, Arthur?” said the man with a brief sneer.

Harry blinked, it was the same one Draco used, yet more controlled and terribly off-putting. The resemblance to his son was clear, but there was a stark difference between them, one that Harry could see but not put into words. _‘Perhaps he resembles his mom as well?’_ Harry couldn’t remember her face, but he knew she was pretty, so Draco must take after her too.

“Let’s go, Harry,” said Mr Weasley, breaking his line of thought.

“Alright,” said Harry, still a bit dazed. “Goodbye, sir."

The last time Harry saw Lucius Malfoy look puzzled had been three years ago after Harry freed Dobby with a sock. There were no house-elves present at the moment but Lucius still blinked at him in surprise, his grey eyes then narrowing in suspicion.

Harry was quick to follow Mr Weasley, who gave him another weird look. “Are you feeling alright, Harry?"

“I’m fine,” said Harry with a grimace. “There’s just something I should let you all know." 

\---

As usual, the dinner prepared by Mrs Weasley had been wonderful, but Harry hadn’t been able to enjoy it. The prospect of telling them all was terrifying, but he _knew_ that hiding his relationship wouldn’t end well. He had to let them know, and he spent dinner figuring out a way to do so.

Then everyone started getting up from the table and Harry realized he was out of time.

“Wait!” he said, perhaps a bit too loud. He grimaced at their startled expressions, “I’m sorry, there’s just something I need to tell you." 

Ron, Hermione and the twins exchanged a surprised look with each other, then looked at Harry as if asking him if he was about to do _it_. 

“Oh, right. You mentioned something like that at the Ministry too,” said Mr Weasley, sitting down again. 

“Is everything alright, dear?” asked Mrs Weasley.

“Yes,” said Harry, “It’s just that you _might_ not like this."

Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him an easy smile. “It can’t be that bad." 

From across the table, Ron made a non-committal hum.

“I’m dating someone,” confessed Harry. 

The adults exchanged an amused glance. “We knew that, Harry,” said Lupin.

“Who is it?” asked Mrs Weasley with a smile. “Do we know her?"

“You most certainly do,” said Harry, because that was _exactly_ the issue. He gave his friends another look, finding a firm nod from Hermione and a grimace from Ron. Harry cleared his throat. “It’s Draco. Er, Draco Malfoy." 

Ginny’s eyes went comically wide, while her parents, Sirius and Lupin only stared at Harry, without saying anything. 

Then Sirius broke into a laugh. “Oh, you had me there for a second,” he said, wiping a tear. He then looked at Harry’s serious expression and his grin fell. “You are joking." 

“I’m not,” said Harry, at the same time Hermione, Ron and the twins said, “He is not." 

“You knew?!” exclaimed Ginny. They all shrugged.

Mrs Weasley looked confused. “Harry, dear, is this the _same_ Draco you said hated you?"

“The very same,” said Harry. 

“Lucius Malfoy’s _son_?” asked Mr Weasley. 

Harry nodded.

“Is that why you were staring at him today?”

“Wait, wait,” interrupted Fred. “Lucius Malfoy was at the Hearing today?"

“How’s the in-law, Harry?” asked George, snickering with Ron. 

Lupin frowned at the four teenagers. “I have to say, I’m surprised you are taking this so well."

“We didn’t find out at the best moment possible,” said Hermione. "But Harry explained it to us and we understood." 

“That’s one way of putting it”, huffed Ron. “It was a disaster, and then a complete dramatic tale with those two." 

“And you?” asked Lupin at the twins.

Fred and George exchanged a grin. “Honestly, we just find it funny,” confessed George.

“Hogwarts’ two biggest enemies,” mused Fred. “ _Star-crossed lovers_." 

Harry flushed. “Shut up." 

Mrs Weasley opened and closed her mouth, exchanging a look with her husband. "I'm lost," she admitted.

"Harry," said Lupin diplomatically. "How did this happen?"

Harry licked his lips, "Er, it's kind of a long story. I-." 

"They met at the owlery," said Hermione.

"Started talking," continued Ron.

"Then gradually developed feelings for each other," explained Hermione.

"Had a fight," added Ron.

"Worked it out," countered Hermione.

" _But_ decided to be just friends," pointed Ron.

"Then Harry almost died," grimaced Hermione.

"And we woke up to them snogging in the Hospital Wing," finished Ron. "Quite traumatic." 

Fred and George whistled.

"Quite the story," said Lupin. He looked at Harry, "And you like him." 

"I do," confessed Harry, ignoring the cooing from the twins.

Lupin's eyebrows furrowed in a frown. "Harry, surely you understand why we might feel troubled by this." 

"I do," sighed Harry. 

"But you are serious about this." 

Harry gave him a firm nod. "I am." 

"No, you are not," scoffed Sirius. He had been silent till now, so his addition startled them all. The mand shook his head. "Harry, _come on_ . You can't be dating someone like _him_ , with the family he has." 

“Lucius Malfoy is one of You-Know-Who’s biggest supporters, Harry,” said Lupin. “You know this, you saw it yourself." 

Harry frowned. “I know, but-" 

“He stands for everything we are against, Harry” explained Mr Weasley, looking quite serious. “And he is one of our biggest threats at the moment. You saw how he has Fudge under his influence, and the Ministry along with him." 

“I know!” protested Harry. “Believe me, I know what Lucius Malfoy is. I was _there_." The memory of the graveyard wasn’t one he would be forgetting soon. “But Draco is not his father." 

Sirius raised his hand in dismissal. “ _Oh, please_ , you know what they say; wands from the same tree...."

“Wasn’t _your_ family like that as well?” cut in Harry, feeling a pang of irritation. 

“I _never_ believed any of that crap,” snapped Sirius. “Are you going to tell me _dear Draco_ doesn’t have centuries of blood-purity engraved on his head. Because I’m sure Lucius would not let his _son_ be less of a fanatic than he is; neither would dear Narcissa." 

“He does,” said Fred, suddenly sounding serious. “Little Draco just parrots his father’s words. What did he use to say, George?"

“I believe it was, _‘My father will hear about this_ ’” answered George, in an eery copy of Draco’s tone. He shrugged at Harry, “Sorry, mate, but he _is_ a prat." 

Harry frowned. “It’s different now,” he said, hating how weak it sounded. But it was true. Even if Draco wasn’t an outright advocate of muggle rights and still took pride on his blood status, there had been a shift on him, one that Harry believed would continue. “I think that if someone here knows how much of a prat he has been, it's Ron, Hermione and me. Not any of you." 

“You might be right about that,” said Lupin, carefully studying him. Then he looked at Hermione. “What do you think?"

“Me?” blinked Hermione. When Lupin nodded, she sat up a bit straighter. “Well, Malfoy has been an awful person to us in the past-" 

“He has!” exclaimed Ginny. “He called you a m- he called you _that_." 

The Weasleys gasped and Sirius scoffed again, but Lupin just kept looking at Hermione patiently.

“That isn’t the worst he has done,” said Hermione, surprisingly calm. “When Ron and I found out, we were upset." 

“Big-time,” agreed Ron.

“But, as I said, Harry explained it to us, and I trust him,” said Hermione, giving Harry a firm nod. “Furthermore, Malfoy refrained from saying anything to us since they started talking. He’s actually been rather polite." 

“It was really weird,” said Ron, “We had a mostly peaceful year - until the end, of course." 

“Has he apologized?” asked Lupin, one eyebrow raised. “For anything?"

Hermione pursed her lips, “He hasn’t, but-”

" _Of course_ he hasn’t,” muttered Sirius. He was glaring at Harry. “So this _idiot_ is a git to your friends, doesn’t even apologize, and you expect them to forget everything just b-because he doesn’t insult them anymore. I’m sure they are-" 

“I can speak for myself, sir,” cut in Hermione sternly, startling the man. “He hasn’t apologized, not yet. But I’m sure he will, at the proper time." 

“And that doesn’t bother you?” asked Lupin.

“It does. Don’t be mistaken, we are _not_ friends,” said Hermione. “But both of us care about Harry, which is why we are no longer enemies."

“I don’t like the git,” added Ron. “But I’d be lying if I said he doesn’t care about Harry. And Harry cares about him too." Ron looked guilty for a moment, “Last year I was a git to Harry."

Harry frowned. “Ron, it’s alright-" 

“No,” cut in Ron. “I was, Harry. I turned my back on you. And I’m still sorry about that, mate." He turned to the adults. “Harry is my best friend and I trust him. If he is serious about this, we are too." 

Hermione was looking at him in surprise. “Very well put, Ronald,” she said softly before beaming at him, then turning towards the rest. “I fully agree." 

Harry felt a strong rush of affection for his friends and smiled at them when they looked at him with determination. 

Mr and Mrs Weasley shared a perplexed look. “Well, Hermione has always been a very smart girl,” said Mrs Weasley.

“I’m also here, mom” huffed Ron. 

“We know,” assured Mr Weasley, “We are surprised you are taking this so maturely, son. I know you had a particular dislike for the boy." 

"Well, so did Harry,” shrugged Ron. Then he cringed, “Not the best comparison." 

Lupin cracked a smile and looked at Harry. “And you are convinced Draco can change." 

“I am,” said Harry. “He-" 

“He _won’t,_ ” cut in Sirius. There was a sour expression on his face. “People like him _never_ change. Just you wait, in a few years he will follow his _scum_ of a father’s steps-" 

Before Harry could say anything, Lupin cut in. “People can change, Sirius,” said the ex-professor pointedly. “For the better, and the worse. We know that."

Sirius lips curled into a snarl, “If you are talking about Peter-" 

“I’m talking about James,” said Lupin. 

“James wasn’t a blood purist,” growled Sirius. “Don’t bring him into this." 

Lupin remained calm. “No, but he did things that were _not_ right when he was young. We all did,” he said. “The point I’m trying to make is that they are still young. And if James-" 

“Don’t bring James into this!” barked Sirius, smacking his hand on the table loudly. “Do you know what he would say if he knew what his _son_ is doing?"

Mrs Weasley suddenly stood up, waving a warning finger at him. “Don’t you dare!"

“He is not a child, Molly. Stop protecting him from the truth,” snapped Sirius. He turned to Harry, “Your father-”

“ _Sirius_ ,” warned Lupin.

Sirius only spared him a cold glance before looking at Harry. “Your father would be very disappointed in you." 

The words were like a slap to the face, physically making Harry and the others around the table reel back. They stung, like pressure on an open wound, and Harry could only stare at his godfather.

If the man had any regrets about what he said, he wasn’t showing them now. “You are relating to the people he stood against,” spat Sirius. “To the people that _killed_ him." 

“That’s enough!” barked Lupin, standing up too. “Sirius, I’m warning you." 

“You are warning _me_?” asked Sirius, giving everyone a weird look. “Why am I the only one angry about this? You know it’s not right." 

“What is not right is what you are doing, Sirius!” hissed Mrs Weasley. “Harry wanted to let us know, and you are not listening. Not to him, not to Ron or Hermione." 

“There’s nothing to listen” snapped Sirius. “We are in a _war_ , and Harry is turning his back on us, dating the son of a Death Eater, who, like his father, is probably also a _scumbag-_ " 

"Don't talk about him,” said Harry coldly, startling the table with his tone. He stood up, glaring at Sirius. “Don’t you dare say _anything_ about him." 

Sirius frowned at him, opening his mouth to speak again, but Harry wouldn’t take it.

“Say anything about me. Call me a traitor, or tell me that my father would hate me. Whatever you want,” Harry raised a finger at his godfather. “But don’t ever say anything about him. You don't know _anything_." He then looked at the rest of the table, finding them giving him worried looks. Making an effort, he swallowed his anger and gave them a nod. “Thank you for listening to me. I’ll go to sleep now." 

He walked away then, fists clenched as he refrained from kicking the door open and stomping up the stairs. Behind him, he could hear Mrs Weasley and Lupin talking to Sirius, sounding upset. He heard the door open again and two sets of steps following behind him.

Harry didn’t look at his friends until he was sitting on his bed, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. 

Hermione spoke first. “He will come around, Harry,” she said softly. “I’m sure of it." 

“Honestly, Hermione,” sighed Harry. “Right now, I don’t care if he does." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As usual, the comments are very much appreciated! Hope you liked it and see you next time!


	4. August 31, Thursday: Last Supper

The day before term started, Harry received two envelopes, both handed to him by an amused Ron. One had Hogwarts’ red wax seal and was probably the overdue booklist. The second one had a familiar neat handwriting that made Harry cast away the first one immediately. 

His correspondence with Draco had retained its frequency, despite the twins cooing and Sirius’ bitter face. Harry and his godfather had refused to talk to the other since Harry’s Hearing, even after Lupin and Hermione told them they were being childish.

“You two are ridiculous,” said Ron when Harry snatched the letter away from him.

“Don’t you have a booklist to read?” countered Harry, already opening the letter. It was shorter than usual, and began with a _‘Scarhead’_ instead of _‘Harry’_. After the usual greeting, Draco had complained about the tardiness of the school’s letter.

> _‘Diagon Alley will be absolutely packed today, I assure you, but unexpectedly that poses no problem to me. My father bought the new books yesterday. He just gave them to me early this morning’_.

Harry blinked at that, bringing the letter closer to his face.

> _‘I haven’t finished reading through them yet, but I’ll have you know that the Defense book is utter rubbish. The new professor must be another nutter or as idiotic as Lockhart, no matter what Father says._
> 
> _But nevermind that now, it’s not proper to write a letter just to complain, so I’ll leave it for the train. Do not forget to check Hogwarts' letter thoroughly. If I’m correct, as I usually am, this year will be promising for both of us._
> 
> _See you tomorrow,_
> 
> _Draco’._

There were several things to worry about in the letter, but Harry’s attention was fully directed to the end. Tomorrow. He would finally see Draco tomorrow. Without wiping the smile off his face, Harry folded the letter, placed it on the bed next to him and went for the other one. As Draco had said, there were only two new books. _‘The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5’_ and _‘Defensive Magical Theory’_. Perhaps it was because of Draco’s opinion, but Harry found the title of the latter not very appealing. 

“Hey, Ron,” said Harry, rolling up the parchment. “Have you heard of this author? Wilbert Slinkhard?"

Two _Cracks_ marked the apparition of Fred and George just in front of him. “We were just wondering who got Slinkhard,” said Fred. “Our parents were- Is that what I think it is?"

George went for Draco’s letter but Harry was quicker. He held it close and frowned at the twins, receiving two amused grins in answer. “Isn’t that sweet, Fred?” asked George, pinching one of Harry’s cheeks. “They are seeing each other tomorrow and his _hunny-bunny_ sends a letter anyway." 

“It’s like they can’t be apart, George,” agreed Fred, pinching Harry’s other cheek. “Adorable, isn’t that right, Ronnie?"

The three of them turned around when Ron didn’t answer and found him standing very still, gaping at his Hogwarts’ letter. They shared a confused look and went to stand next to him, taking a peek at it. Not two seconds later they were gaping too, one of the twins exclaiming, “ _Prefect_?”

\---

Mrs Weasley had been ecstatic, she had kissed Ron a million times and agreed to buy him a broom as a reward. The ginger had been over the moon when she returned from Diagon Alley with a long package.

Dinner that night became a small party. Mrs Weasley had hung a scarlet banner that read _‘Congratulations Ron & Hermione’ _over the dinner table, which was completely stacked with a generous banquet. Apart from the Weasleys and Sirius; Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley, Mundungus and even Moody had shown up. 

After an enthusiastic toast by Mr Weasley for Ron and Hermione, dinner began. The food was wonderful as usual, but perhaps it was knowing that this would be the last night before he saw Draco that made it taste especially good for Harry. 

Fred and George shared a hushed conversation with Mundungus, while Ron talked to Bill about his broom, very excitedly. "It can go from nought to seventy in ten seconds, not bad at all, isn’t it?"

Harry listened to them until a hand was placed on his shoulder, startling him. Harry looked up to find Sirius standing by him and found his good mood souring again.

The man looked uncomfortable. "Can I speak to you for a moment, Harry?"

\---

Sirius led them upstairs, towards a spacious room Harry knew was called the drawing-room. He was sure that at one point it had been quite luxurious, but now it was as decadent as the rest of the house. They stopped next to a wall, completely covered by a tapestry that, now that Harry examined it closer, turned out to a quite complex family tree.

He quickly noticed a familiar name, connected to Narcissa Black by a pretty golden line.

"You are related to Draco?" asked Harry.

"His mother," said Sirius, pointing at the name over Draco's, "Narcissa is my first cousin. Along with her sister Bellatrix."

That name rang a bell, but Harry couldn’t quite place it. 

“She’s in Azkaban,” continued Sirius. “Went in with her husband and Barty Crouch." 

Right. Harry had seen her in the Pensieve, chained but proud of her allegiance to Voldemort. And she was Draco’s aunt. “What about that burn?” asked Harry, not wanting to think much of that.

“Tonks’ mother, Andromeda,” said Sirius. “Unlike her sisters, she married a muggle-born, so her name got scorched and Tonks’ wasn’t included. That must be the reason Kreacher won’t listen to her, now that I think about it. He has to listen to everyone in the family." 

“You are related to Tonks too?” asked Harry in surprise. 

“All purebloods families are interrelated in some way, Harry. Molly is a cousin by marriage and Arthur is my second cousin once removed, or something." Sirius huffed. “Of course, you won’t find them here. Blood traitors, you know." He pointed towards another burn. “My name was there, next to Regulus,” he paused for a moment. “My little brother. He was a Death Eater." 

Harry looked away from the tapestry and studied him. There was a hard-to-read expression on his godfather’s face. If Harry had to name it, he would say it was a complex mix of sorrow and hatred.

“Regulus, Bellatrix and her husband. I’m not sure if Narcissa is one, but her husband is,” muttered Sirius. “And the rest of them, the one’s without burned names, might not have been Death Eaters, but they danced to the same tune: the purification of the Wizarding race." Sirius looked away from the tapestry and faced Harry. “This is a war, Harry, and these people-” he placed a hand on the tapestry “-are our enemy." 

Harry felt stunned for a moment and looked at the tapestry again. Its extension on the wall, along with the many connections, made it feel like a spider-web, capturing and unforgiving. He stared at Draco’s name, on the very edge of it, and the tree turned into the maws of a beast, ready to close around it at any moment. And Harry felt like he wanted to take it out of there, but the golden lines were strong and solid. Family wasn’t a choice, but-

“Your name was once there too, Sirius,” said Harry as he placed a hand over his boyfriend’s name protectively. 

Sirius frowned. “It was, but I seriously doubt his will be burned like mine." 

“I believe it will,” replied Harry. Or, at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He held Sirius’ gaze defiantly until the man sighed and looked away.

“You are not going to back down, are you?” said Sirius, running a hand through his hair. “Why this boy, Harry? There will be others. You are still young." 

Harry hummed. “I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, I do know but it’s hard to explain. I know it’s not going to be as simple as it should be, but-” He felt a bit embarrassed. “I just think that I'm okay with that if it's him." 

“I see,” said Sirius. He let out a resigned sigh. “You really like him, don’t you?"

“Er, yes,” admitted Harry. “I do." 

Sirius looked troubled, “I don’t like this Harry. I don’t think I ever will." He raised a hand before Harry could protest. “I can only trust you with this and ask you that, when the moment comes, you remember where your loyalties have to be. Please, promise me that." 

Harry didn’t like the implication behind the wording, but he understood. The tapestry, after all, was a solid reminder. “I promise,” he said. “But I’m sure his loyalties will be the same as mine when the moment arrives."

“Right,” said Sirius, studying Harry carefully. “Your father was a stubborn git as well." The man looked pained. “Harry, I shouldn’t have said what I said. It wasn’t my place, and I’m sure James would have loved you, no matter what." 

Harry could only nod, accepting the arm Sirius hung around his shoulder. They looked at the tapestry together. 

“So, how is he?” asked Sirius after a moment, sounding a bit strained. “Little Draco." 

“He's very clever. Helped me a lot last year with Potions.” Harry smiled at the memory. “He didn't want to, at first, but we made a habit out of it. I helped him with Transfiguration too, but I don’t think he needed it that much." Harry looked at the name for a moment. “He has pretty eyes." 

Sirius whistled. “Pretty eyes, huh." 

“Well, yes,” stammered Harry. “I mean, not only the eyes but-" 

“Not only the eyes, huh,” grinned Sirius. “And I think Ron mentioned something about the Hospital Wing-" 

Harry groaned. “Please, shut up." 

Sirius coughed, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Harry, do I need to talk to you about-." 

“No,” cut in Harry immediately. “No, it’s not- Just don’t." 

Sirius shrugged. “I’ll leave it to Molly or Moony then." He gave Harry another grin. “I could ask them right now."

Harry wanted another godfather.

\---

They walked into the kitchen together, Harry feeling like a weight had left his shoulders. He wouldn’t have wanted to leave Grimmauld Place still angry with Sirius. He had just taken his seat between Ron and Lupin when he noticed that the table was once again silent and looking at him. 

“What?” asked Harry. Not liking the way Ron grimaced, he turned towards him. “What is it?"

“Bill asked what happened with you and Sirius,” said Hermione from across the table. “And Ron snitched."

Ron sputtered. “Hermione!"

“Ah,” said Harry. This wasn’t the way he thought he would let the others now, but in all honesty, he hadn’t thought of a way either. “Saves me the trouble, then."

Mundungus barked a laugh, spilling the beverage he held on his hand, to Mrs Weasley’s irritation.

“Is it true then?” asked Bill. “I thought Ron was joking but then Ginny said he wasn’t."

“As _hilarious_ as it is, it’s real,” muttered Ginny, face resting on her hand. Harry knew she was still a bit angry, frowning whenever the twins cooed at him. But when he asked Hermione about it, she just shook her head and said she needed time. 

“Lucius Malfoy is allowing his _son_ to date Harry Potter?” asked Kingsley. “That can’t be." 

Mr Weasley grinned. “Oh, that’s the best part,” he said. “He doesn’t know." 

“That’s a disaster just waiting to happen,” said Kingsley. Then he seemed to remember Harry, “I mean- No, kid. It _is_ a disaster waiting to happen." 

“Unless Lucius does know,” started Moody, his electric-blue eye examining Harry. “He might be using his son to get inside your head. Inside the Order!"

Harry frowned. “No-" 

“Constant Vigilance!” yelled Tonks, hitting her tankard on the table and then breaking into a laugh. “Oh, I don’t know, Mad-Eye, I think it’s _romantic_." 

“You think Lucius is using his son as _bait_?” asked Mr Weasley slowly. 

“A _honeytrap,_ ” said Fred, making the younger people on the table laugh. Except for Harry, who thought about drowning on his juice.

Lupin raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t think Lucius would do that." 

“ _Draco_ wouldn’t do that,” said Harry. “His parents don’t know. Last year he was worried about them finding out." 

“Well,” said Ron. “I mean, I would be worried about my parents finding out through _Skeeter_ too." 

“Skeeter?!” shrieked Mrs Weasley. 

“We took care of it,” assured Hermione.

“I think the Malfoys would have gotten her killed,” mused Ron. “I mean, she would have made it to the front page. She had a photo-" 

“Thank you, Ron!” cut in Harry. “I think they got the idea." 

“Wait, Rita Skeeter was involved?” asked Bill.

Ron shrugged. “I told you it was a whole dramatic tale. They-" 

“The only interest I have in Potter’s love life is what it means for The Order,” grunted Moody, bringing the attention back to him. “The Order has to remain secret-" 

“I already spoke to Harry about that,” cut in Lupin calmly. “He knows he can’t tell him anything about The Order." 

Harry nodded. He had been a bit offended at the notion that he would say anything in the first place, but Lupin had explained that it wasn’t just a matter of protecting The Order. He could also put Draco in danger.

Moody examined Harry silently, a thoughtful expression on his face. “If they are not using this to get information, perhaps we can." 

“The boy can’t know much, Mad-Eye,” said Lupin with a slight frown. “He’s too young." 

“And I don’t think Lucius is stupid enough to be telling him everything,” added Mr Weasley,

 _‘And I’m not going to use my boyfriend to get information,’_ thought Harry, because that sounded awful. 

“The _boy_ might know things he doesn’t realize are important. Even things that are part of his daily routine could be useful for us,” huffed Moody. He turned to Harry, his glass eye fixed on him again. “Tell us then, Potter." 

Harry frowned. “There’s nothing to tell-" He paused, thinking. 

“Ah!” snapped Moody, his glass eye rotating like crazy. “There is something." 

“It’s nothing big,” said Harry, feeling uncertain. “He just mentioned his father bought the new books yesterday." 

Hermione frowned. “But the list just came out today." 

“Yeah, I thought it was a bit weird,” said Harry. “But isn’t Lucius on the Board of Governors?"

“Not anymore,” said Mr Weasley, scratching his chin. “Did he say anything else?"

Harry hummed. “Not really, he was a bit mad about the Defense book, said it was _rubbish."_ He smiled. “I told you, it’s nothing big." 

“Perhaps not,” said Mr Weasley, exchanging a look with Kingsley. “But for Lucius to know the booklist before the rest, he must have gotten access somehow. If not through the Board of Governors, then somewhere else." 

“Maybe Snape told him?” tried Ron.

“Teachers don’t get access to the list before it is ready. They would have to ask each teacher individually, and I doubt Snape would go through the trouble,” said Lupin. “This year the booklist was quite late as well."

“Isn’t that because Dumbledore had trouble finding a professor for Defense?” said Fred, then grimacing at the look his mother gave him. “I assume because I have no way of knowing since I didn't spy on your meetings or something." 

“But he did find one in the end." Mr Weasley hummed. “And Lucius Malfoy seems _informed_ of their material."

Hermione frowned. “But why?"

“I think,” said Lupin slowly. “That the Ministry might have found a way to get inside Hogwarts." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! See you on Monday!


	5. September 1, Friday: Anticipated Meeting

The group rushed through the station, probably making an odd view to the other passengers, for the old-looking Tonks and the dark dog pacing next to them. Sirius seemed quite happy being out of the house, wagging his tail and barking at passers-by. Once they crossed the wall to the platform, Harry’s attention left the group completely. Even if the station couldn’t have been more packed than it was every year, Harry felt that it was too crowded. When Lupin, Moody and the rest of the Weasleys joined them, he hadn’t found Draco yet. 

“Shouldn’t have brought the dog,” grunted Moody.

There was a bark in response and some people on the station turned their heads towards the odd group, letting Harry finally see through the crowd. Draco stood by his parents. Harry couldn’t see Narcissa’s face from that angle very well, but he could see Lucius and Draco perfectly and the resemblance was, once again, striking. They had turned towards the group and Harry saw Draco’s eyes recognizing him, the familiar softening of the edges and the brief smile that rendered Harry thoughtless.

The blond seemed to remember his parents because his eyes travelled back to Lucius quickly. But the man was still looking at the group, slightly raising his eyebrows before he leaned towards his son and whispered something. Draco blinked at him, doing a double-take on them and saying something back.

“Potter,” hissed a voice and Harry’s attention was pulled back to the group. Moody was studying him, following Harry’s former line of sight and frowning.

“Is it the _honeytrap_?” asked George. 

“Of course it is,” replied Fred. “Look at Harry, he’s been trapped like a fly." 

“Stop calling him _that,_ ” muttered Harry, feeling his face warm. A tail wagged against his side and he looked at Sirius. _How could a dog look amused?_ “Shut up." 

Sirius made to bark again and Lupin sent him a warning look. “Don’t attract more attention, I’m not sure dogs are allowed here in the first place." 

“This one definitely isn’t,” mumbled Ron. 

The warning whistle of the train went off, making the rest of the students in the platform hurry onto the train.

“It’s leaving!” shrieked Mrs Weasley. “Quick, quick!" She gave all of them hugs while telling them to write and be good. Sirius jumped, placing its front paws on Harry’s shoulders and looking too serious for a dog for a brief moment before Mrs Weasley shoved Harry towards the train. 

As it advanced, they watched Sirius run along on the platform, to the amusement of the remaining parents on it. Once they turned a corner, and the station disappeared, Fred and George excused themselves, and so did Ron and Hermione.

“We don’t have to stay there the whole ride,” assured Hermione before they left for the prefect’s carriage.

It was vaguely annoying and Harry felt that tug of envy again before he dismissed it. He waved to his friends and walked in the opposite direction with Ginny to look for a compartment, hoping to find Draco quickly.

\---

Harry was slumped on his seat by the window, not paying attention to Neville’s conversation with Ginny. Even after walking all the way back to find a compartment, he hadn’t seen Draco. Not even in Zabini’s compartment, which he was sharing with other Slytherins. Zabini had only grinned at him in an infuriating way when Harry walked by, so he had chosen not to ask him anything. 

It wasn’t until an hour later that the compartment door opened quite harshly, startling Neville into dropping his frog. Draco stood there, looking irritated and as handsome as ever. “Potter,” he said, flashing a white grin that made Harry sit up straight.

Before Harry could even say hi, the blond had crossed the space and sat next to him, giving Harry only time enough to register that the grey eyes were actually silver before pulling him into a kiss. Harry forgot about the hour he had to wait and lost himself to the soft and warm sensation, wondering how he could have gone so long without it. 

A whimper made them break apart, and Harry remembered that he had been sharing the compartment with three other people. Neville looked scared, blinking many times per second and glancing at the other as if looking for an explanation. Luna still had that dazed smile on her face and Ginny was looking away, arms crossed. Ron and Hermione weren’t there yet, and that made Harry remember something.

He frowned at Draco. “Where have you been?"

“Oh, right.” Draco pulled back a little so Harry could look at him properly and notice the silver and emerald badge pinned to his robes, just next to the silver constellation pin. 

“You are a _Prefect_?"

The blond huffed. “You don’t have to sound so surprised." 

“No, I mean, congratulations,” said Harry. “Makes sense you are a Prefect. Not only are you smart, but you also have Snape’s blatant favouritism."

“ _You_ are one to talk about favouritism,” grinned Draco, before a slight frown set on his face. “That’s why I was sure Dumbledore would pick you. You have always been his golden boy."

Harry felt his mood souring and a pang of irritation at the Headmaster. It must have shown on his face because Draco pursed his lips and held a hand to Harry’s cheek. 

“It must have been the old age,” whispered Draco softly, making Harry look at him. “I have always thought he was a bit loony. This just proves it further."

Harry snorted. “Git." 

“It would have been fun to be prefects together,” said Draco. “But maybe this way I can make sure you don’t do anything stupid. You better behave, Harry, I can deduct points, you know."

Harry grinned. “Oh, really?"

Draco nodded and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “I could even put you in detention." 

Harry froze, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He stared at the other as he pulled back. “What-." 

The blond’s cool facade cracked. “I was just joking,” he laughed. “You should have seen your face." 

“Git,” muttered Harry, pulling him closer to press a kiss on his lips, effectively making the blond stop laughing. He smiled at him, “I missed you a lot, thanks for writing to me."

Draco blinked at him quietly and Harry noted triumphantly the pink tinge on his cheeks. “Well, of course I did," mumbled Draco, then clearing his throat and looking at Harry carefully. “I see you finally cut your hair.” 

“Yeah,” said Harry, feeling a bit conscious. His hair was way shorter now, which had been blessing during the awful heat of summer, but it was also a change.

“As usual, I was right,” said Draco haughtily, running a hand through it and stopping at his nape. He grinned at Harry and lowered his voice. “You look rather dashing, Scarhead.”

A cough caught their attention, and both stopped looking at the other to find that Ron and Hermione were standing by the door, next to a disgusted looking Parkinson, who also had a prefect badge to Harry’s annoyment. 

“Are you done now?” asked Ron, lowering the hand he had fakely coughed into. “Because I think Neville is about to faint," he added, jerking his head towards the shocked boy, who kept rubbing his eyes as if he had just woken up.

“Bugger off, Weasley,” muttered Draco as he straightened on his seat. 

Parkinson sat on the other side of Draco, while Ron took the seat in front of Harry, just next to Neville, and Hermione sat between Ginny and Luna.

“Oh, hello” greeted Luna, holding up some magazines. “The Quibbler?"

Hermione looked pained. “No, _thanks_." 

“It’s not bad,” hurried Harry, waving his copy. Luna had been kind enough to give him one, and even if the articles seemed a bit silly, they were better than the blatant lies of the Daily Prophet. He shoved Draco lightly when he snickered. “Don’t be a git." 

“Let’s see then,” said Draco, leaning on Harry to check the magazine. It was open on an article on Sirius actually being an _Innocent Singing Sensation_. Harry felt Draco tense up and turned to tell him the article was probably a joke. 

The blond looked troubled. “Harry, there’s something I think I should tell you."

Harry frowned at that. “What is it? You okay?"

“Yes, it’s-” Draco looked around as if to make sure the rest weren’t paying much attention to them. Satisfied, he leaned closer to whisper in Harry’s ear, “I saw you in the station, with a _dog_." 

“Yes?” asked Harry, trying to sound casual.

“Father saw it too, and he told me,” the blond paused for a second, as if uncertain. “ _Draco, that’s Sirius Black_." 

Dread pooled on his stomach. Sirius had been recognized. His animagus form wasn’t safe if Lucius Malfoy could tell with a simple glance. ‘ _Pettigrew,’_ remembered Harry bitterly. _‘He must have told them.'_

“Harry,” continued Draco, placing a hand over Harry’s on the seat. “I know there will be secrets between us, but be careful, alright?"

Harry nodded and signalled Draco to lend him his ear. He thought about telling him Sirius was his godfather, that he wasn’t a criminal and it was alright. 

Instead, he pressed a kiss on his face, just by his ear, and was shoved back lightly by a red-faced Draco, who held a hand to his ear and tried to frown at Harry. 

“It’s fine,” assured Harry, amused by his reaction. “I promise."

“Wait, hold on,” said Neville suddenly, looking at everyone in the compartment “Please, what’s going on? Am I going crazy?"

Luna giggled. “No, Neville. They are just dating." 

“They are _what?_ ” Neville’s eyes were wide open. “Since when?"

“Since first year, Longbottom,” said Draco.

Neville blinked. “But-" 

“He’s just messing with you,” assured Harry. “Since June." He grinned at Draco, “June 25." 

“The same date You-Know-Who returned,” muttered Ginny. “How fitting." 

Parkinson let out an amused gasp and Ron snorted, while the rest of the compartment turned to look at Ginny in surprise and Harry immediately looked at Draco. The blond had pursed his lips and seemed to be studying Ginny, silver eyes narrowed in concentration. Then, as in sudden enlightenment, he blinked, and his mouth curved into a sweet smile that puzzled Harry.

“That was the day before,” said Draco in a calm voice that sounded vaguely menacing. “But who’s counting, right? After all,” he held one of Harry’s hands with both of his. “It feels longer than that.” 

There was a weird tension in the compartment, as Draco and Ginny glared at the other, the blond’s silver eyes sharp but satisfied, and Ginny’s brown ones strong and irritated. 

“Chess!” exclaimed Ron suddenly, making everyone look at him. “Malfoy, let’s play chess. I can bet House points now." 

“No, you can’t!” snapped Hermione. “You can’t abuse your power like that!"

Parkinson groaned. “You are _so_ boring, Granger."

“If you are so keen on losing, Weasley” drawled Draco, grin back to usual. “Then I’ll do you the favour." 

\---

Once the train began slowing down, Draco stopped his tirade on the Defense Book, which was heard not only by Harry but also a very interested Hermione. Both of them, Ron and Pansy excused themselves since the prefects had to supervise the departure.

Harry offered to carry Draco owl’s cage for him.

“So chivalrous,” mused the blond, sounding quite pleased. He then flashed Harry a grin that made the hardship of balancing two owl cages as well as his luggage worth it. 

“You are ridiculous,” huffed Ginny at his struggle, exiting the compartment with Crookshanks on her arms.

Neville took pity on him and offered to help since he only needed a pocket to carry Trevor. Together, they carried everything out the train and towards the designated area. After that, carrying the cages became quite easier, especially since both owls were very serene. As they walked towards the carriages, Harry noticed the absence of a certain Groundskeeper. 

“Where is Hagrid?”

“Perhaps he is sick?” tried Neville. 

Harry hummed, hoping it wasn’t the case. They searched for the rest, finding Luna sitting in one of the carriages, Pigwidgeon’s cage next to her. She stood up when she noticed them and extended a hand. “Let me help you with the cages, Harry. We don’t want to disturb them as they sleep." 

“Oh, thanks,” said Harry, approaching the front of the carriage. As he extended his arm towards the girl, it bumped into something and Harry almost dropped the eagle owl’s cage in surprise. He managed to hold onto it, but the bird was already awake and glaring at him. “Sorry,” he grimaced, passing Luna the cage as he looked for whatever he had bumped into.

There was nothing at all, and Harry frowned in confusion. Dismissing it as tiredness, he passed Hedwig’s cage to Luna as well, and surely enough, as he backed up there was another bump. This time, Harry followed it with his hand, almost jumping when he felt something. It was solid and cold, and undoubtedly there, but Harry didn’t see anything but air.

“You can’t see them,” stated Luna. 

“Them?” asked Harry. “You can see something?"

Before Luna could answer, the faint sound of steps approaching made them turn around. The rest were making their way towards them; Draco, Ron and Parkinson walking in front, while Hermione and Ginny kept a few steps behind, whispering at each other.

“Where is Pig?” asked Ron once he reached them. 

“Lunas has him,” answered Harry, then turning to Draco. “And Cepheus too."

“Cepheus?” repeated Ron, clearly amused. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Should _you_ be giving me criticism on names? Didn’t you just call your owl _Pig_?"

Harry grinned. “He has a point, Ron." 

“Oh, shut up. You are clearly biased,” huffed Ron, boarding the carriage “Besides, it wasn’t my idea. Ginny named him." 

“Ah, I see,” said Draco simply, turning his gaze towards the carriage, where everyone else was already seated. Something made him pause briefly, and then he extended a hand to Harry without taking his eyes off the carriage. “Help me up, will you?"

Harry nodded, offering a hand for support as the blond climbed up gracefully. With how easy he made it look, Harry found it weird Draco needed any help, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Thank you, love,” said Draco, flashing Harry a grin once he sat next to him.

 _‘Love?’_ Harry blinked. “Sure,” he managed, feeling as if struck. “Whenever you want." 

The carriage suddenly started moving, and Harry looked towards his friends. Sometimes he forgot there were other people around, to his great embarrassment. Surely, the others were staring at them, Parkinson looking amused while Ginny scowled. 

“Is it always going to be like this?” sighed Ron.

Hermione was shaking her head. “Very mature." 

Draco hummed. “Not sure what you mean, Granger." 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t say anything else, which was odd. Harry opened his mouth to ask about it, but then remembered something else. “Have any of you seen-?"

“Hagrid?” said Ron. “Nope, I hope he is okay." 

Ginny frowned. “Grubbly-Plank was there again, but he can’t have left, right?"

“I’ll be quite glad if he has,” said Luna at the same time Parkinson said, “I hope he did." 

They looked at each other. “He isn’t a very good teacher,” continued Luna.

“He is!” snapped Harry, Ron and Ginny.

Parkinson huffed. “He made us walk a weird hybrid last year." 

“He isn’t that bad,” tried Neville. 

“No comment,” said Draco, earning himself a kick on the shin by Parkinson. He scowled at her. “ _Ow_ , you cow." 

Parkinson scoffed at him. “Going all soft on us now, aren’t you?"

“Since when do you need my backup?” retorted Draco, rubbing his leg. “If I find a single bruise, you are dead to me."

Parkinson pouted at him mockingly. “ _Poor Draco_ , so delicate." 

“Not all of us can have skin as thick as a troll’s,” said Draco haughtily, this time avoiding Parkinson’s kick.

They glared at each other darkly, then breaking into a sudden laugh that startled the rest. 

“Slytherins are so weird” declared Ron.

\---

To the dismay of the others, Harry offered to assist Draco off the carriage once they stopped near the gates, jumping down and extending a hand.

The blond grinned at him. “I see you are learning some manners, love." 

Harry smiled stupidly all the way to the castle, and only let go of the blond’s hand when they reached the Great Hall. He sighed as Draco drifted towards the Slytherin table, along with Parkinson and Luna, who seemed to be in the middle of a conversation.

“You know what, I take back what I said,” whispered Ron as they made way to the Gryffindor table. “We shouldn’t have let this happen, Hermione. My best friend is completely gone." 

“Don’t be dramatic, Ron,” said Hermione, “He hasn’t seen him all summer. It’ll pass in a few days." 

Neville hummed. “Somehow I don’t think it will."

Ginny was hailed away by other fourth years, while the four of them kept going until they found a seat by the middle, just next to Parvati and Lavender. The girls stopped their conversation once they spotted them, which meant they had been probably talking about him. 

“Oh, hello,” said Lavender. “Had a good summer?" Parvati smacked her arm and Lavender seemed to notice her mistake. “I mean, a good ride?"

“The best,” grinned Harry, then turning towards the table and noticing two awful things. First, Hagrid wasn’t there either, and second- “That’s that Umbridge woman. From my hearing." 

Ron snickered. “Nice cardigan”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the woman, a frown settling on her face. “I guess this is how the Ministry found its way in." 

\---

If Umbridge’s job under Fudge wasn’t enough to mark her as bad news, the way she interrupted Dumbledore’s speech definitely was. Harry, Ron and Hermione gaped, and a glance at the Slytherin table showed both Draco and Parkinson exchanging an amused glance, the latter holding a hand to her mouth as if shocked.

Umbridge's speech was long and monotone, and soon Harry found himself drowsing and resting his head on a hand. Hermione seemed to be one of the few listeners, while Ron straight up yawned and started talking to Harry about his broom again.

“Well, that was...” started Hermione once Umbridge stopped and a few hesitant claps were given before Dumbledore went back to his speech.

“Awful?” tried Harry.

Hermione nodded. “And explains the Defense book." 

“No more book talk,” begged Ron. “Not today."

Harry grinned. “Tomorrow, then." 

“Or never,” said Ron, then noticing that everyone was starting to get up. He frowned at the people leaving. “I feel like I’m forgetting something." 

“The first years!” exclaimed Hermione, standing up. “We have to show them the way! Let’s go!"

Harry watched them leave the table in a hurry, while he and Neville calmly followed them outside the Great Hall.

Ron’s height only made the sight of him between the first years funnier. While he seemed a bit nervous, Hermione was as controlled as ever, and soon enough the first years were following them like ducklings. 

“Chins up,” said a commanding voice behind Harry. Coming from the other side of the Hall, Parkinson led a group of new Slytherins, who followed her like soldiers, giggling at each other as they kept their heads up. 

Draco trailed behind them, making sure no one strayed from the group. He grinned at Harry as they passed by them. 

“Chins up?” repeated Harry, quite amused. He noticed how some of the kids stared at him, one halting on her steps and being dragged by another.

“House values, Scarhead,” said Draco, giving him a light shove. “See you tomorrow." 

Harry smiled. “Yeah. Goodnight." 

“This is _uncanny,_ ” mused Neville as they watched the Slytherins walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost wanted to publish this tomorrow so the dates would match (lol). 
> 
> Cepheus, as you probably guessed, is a constellation, named after the king of Ethiopia in Greek mythology. A fitting name for a Malfoy owl, isn't it?
> 
> Thanks for reading! As usual, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! See you on Thursday!


	6. September 4, Monday: First Day of an Awful School Year

On Sunday, Harry spent the day following Draco around the library. The blond had turned out to be quite studious, maybe as much as Hermione, and wanted to get ahead before classes began.

“My father expects nothing but the best,” explained Draco, and Harry was once again reminded of the striking resemblance. 

_‘But Draco looks very different, somehow,’_ thought Harry, looking at him as he skimmed through a book. He rested his head on a hand and studied his boyfriend, since he didn’t have many opportunities to do so. His eyes traced the blond’s face, from the pale eyebrows and focused silver eyes to the refined features, then following the sharp jawline all the way to the cheek and discovering small freckles. They started just by an ear and descended towards the neck, like dark stars on the otherwise unblemished pale skin. Harry found them fascinating.

“What are you staring at?” questioned Draco, bringing Harry’s attention back to his eyes, now focused on him.

“You,” said Harry, then reaching to touch the freckles. “I like these." 

Draco blinked at him, face turning pink. “What?"

“The freckles,” explained Harry, pulling his hand back. “I like them." 

“Oh,” said Draco, reaching up to touch them. After a pause, the blond cleared his throat. “Thank you, Harry." 

Harry smiled at the formal tone. “You are _quite_ welcome Draco."

He went back to watching the blond as he studied, noticing that the blush hadn’t disappeared, and fell asleep after a while, waking up to fingers absentmindedly threading through his hair while their owner read about Charms under his breath. 

\---

Monday finally came and Harry found himself in a good mood. He felt well-rested after a long night of dreaming of constellations and soft words. Seamus left the room before Harry had even left the bed as usual, as he had been avoiding him after their discussion, but that didn’t sour his mood. Neither did the way other students seemed to open a way for him as he walked down the halls towards the Great Hall.

“History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, double Defense,” read Ron as they had breakfast. “Binns, Snape, Trelawney and Umbridge in one day. What a good way to start." 

“It is,” said Harry. 

“Why the long face, little bro?” said Fred, sitting down next to him.

“Yeah, what’s wrong, Ronnie?” said George, sitting next to Harry. 

Ron showed them the class schedule. “Check for yourself." 

“Yikes,” said Fred sympathetically, before grinning at them “But I see now why Harry’s looking all silly." 

George gave Harry a light shove. “Suddenly sharing classes with Slytherins ain’t so bad, is it?"

“Shut up,” said Harry, smacking the hand off his shoulder.

“Don’t fool around too much, lover boy, you have the examinations this year,” said Fred.

George nodded. “Oh, yeah. Terrible things, the O.W.L’s." He shook his head gravely. “Half our year had minor breakdowns." 

“Fainting, tears, tantrums…” continued Fred. He then snapped his fingers and smiled. “Which is why you might be interested in our _Skiving Snackboxes_."

“One bite of our Nosebleed Nougat and you will be on your way to a nice break on the Hospital Wing,” added George. “Any takers? They are cheap." 

“No, thanks,” said Harry. 

Fred laughed. “Well, of course, _you_ wouldn’t want one, but what about you, Ronnie?" He turned towards Ron with a grin, “You don’t have a _Slytherin squeeze_ to make you feel better." 

Harry cringed at the name. “Don’t call him that, for Merlin’s sake." 

“I don’t want one,” huffed Ron. “But I might want a Nougat. Why is it cheap?"

“Because you will be bleeding until you shrivel up,” said George. “We haven’t found and antidote yet." 

“We are looking for testers,” continued Fred. “Are any of you-" 

“You can’t advertise for testers in the Common Room,” cut in Hermione, frowning at the twins. “Take your posters down, or I-" 

“George, I believe we are late for Herbology,” said Fred.

“I believe we are, Fred,” said George, then turning to Harry. “Say hello to the _honeytrap_ for me." 

They left then, ignoring the frowns that Hermione and Harry directed at them. 

\---

After Snape’s long speech on O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts, the man told them they would be brewing a potion called Draught of Peace. “Instructions are on the board. You have an hour and a half." 

As the class scurried to get ingredients, Draco, Zabini and Goyle joined them, taking the remaining seats on the table. The blond took the one opposite to Harry’s and flashed him a smile as he started measuring his ingredients.

“Hullo,” greeted Goyle, dropping his containers on the table carelessly. 

“Ah, hello,” said Hermione, then blinking at the three of them.

“The Draught of Peace is quite tricky,” explained Zabini. “And since our resident class pet insists on coming here, we must follow." 

As Draco told Zabini that he was _not_ Snape’s class pet, Harry looked up towards the man in question. He had to bite his lip to refrain from snickering because Snape was looking at them with clear confusion. Harry looked away before the man noticed his grin and came to yell at him.

True to Zabini’s words, the potion was positively the hardest they had ever tried to brew, and it spoke of Snape’s mean streak to make them do it on their first day. Harry was sweating, tongue poking out in concentration as he prepared to stir the potion again after letting it simmer for 7 minutes. The clearing of a throat made him pause, and he looked up at Draco.

Even while most students looked stressed and sweaty by the fumes, the blond remained as neat and crispy as usual. Draco raised a small bottle and flickered his eyes towards the board. Harry had almost forgotten to add the hellebore and probably ruin the whole thing. He hurried to do it, mouthing Draco a silent _‘Thank you’,_ and receiving an equally silent _‘Moron’_.

By the end, the cauldrons of all of them presented the rising silver vapour that Snape had mentioned, except for Ron’s, that kept spitting green sparks. 

“Draco says we shouldn’t make fun of you, but you make it hard,” huffed Goyle. 

Ron frowned. “Shut up, you only copied-"

He halted his words when he saw Snape approaching the table. The professor studied the cauldrons, eyes narrowing in irritation as he saw Harry’s seemingly perfect potion. His examination was promptly finished when Neville’s cauldron fell to the floor, the potion still stuck to the bottom of it. “Fill a flagon with your potion, label it and bring it to the desk,” said Snape to the class, then moving to torment Neville. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione sighed in relief when he left, to the amusement of the Slytherins.

“You three are quite dramatic,” said Zabini. “The professor is not that bad." 

“I owe you one,” whispered Harry to Draco.

The blond grinned. “I’ll remember that." 

Ron huffed. “I can’t believe none of you helped me." 

“You need to learn by yourself,” sniffed Hermione, while Zabini asked “Why would I do that?” sounding genuinely baffled.

“Interhouse unity?” tried Ron, scowling at Zabini when he grimaced.

\---

“An essay on giant wars from Binns, one on uses of moonstones from Snape, and now a dream journal? This year is going to suck,” groaned Ron as they left the Divination Tower. “That Umbridge woman better not leave us anything." 

Harry hummed. “I wouldn’t count on that." The woman seemed as unpleasant as Snape, perhaps even more. 

Umbridge was already at her desk when they reached the class, clad in pink from head to toes. Everyone walked in quietly, still unsure of what to expect from the woman. Hermione had saved them seats on a table by the back of the class, which was startling enough since she always preferred to sit by the front. Draco was sitting on the other side of the room, listening to Parkinson whispering as he studied Umbridge. From the size of his grin, Harry thought Parkinson probably had some opinions on the woman. 

“Well, good afternoon,” said Umbridge, once everyone had sat down. She made the class greet her, wrote the course aims on the board and then told them to put their wands away and read the first chapter of _Defensive Magical Theory_. 

It was as dull as Draco had said, and Harry couldn’t even get past the second page without his eyes dropping. He looked around the classroom after a while, finding Hermione’s hand firmly raised and many students looking at her in surprise. 

“Do you have a question on the chapter, dear?” asked Umbridge after ignoring Hermione for several minutes.

“No, I meant to ask a question on the course aims,” said Hermione. “There’s no mention of defensive spells." 

Most of the class went to look at the course aims again, and shortly after other hands were raised and whispers started going along the classroom as Umbridge explained herself.

“We are not using magic?” exclaimed Ron at one moment, and several people shared incredulous looks.

Harry quickly began feeling angry at the woman, as she dismissed her classmate’s questions, called Lupin a half-breed, and kept ignoring Harry’s raised hand. He noticed that all of the raised hands came from Gryffindors, and looked towards the other end of the room. The Slytherins were quiet observers, eyes flickering between the students and Umbridge as if it were a tennis match. _‘Aren’t they going to say anything?’_ thought Harry.

“There’s a practical bit in the Defense O.W.L,” was saying Parvati. “Are we supposed to take it without practising at all?"

Umbridge gave her a patronizing smile, “As long as you have studied the theory well enough-" 

“What’s good _theory_ going to do in the real world?” finally snapped Harry. “What if we are attacked and have to defend ourselves?"

“Who do you imagine would attack kids like you, Mr Potter?” asked Umbridge with a saccharine voice. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Harry angrily. “Maybe-" 

\---

After losing 10 house points for Gryffindor and being scolded by McGonagall, Harry reached the Great Hall entrance with a week's worth of detention with Umbridge and a god-awful mood.

Whispers reached his ears and he halted on his steps, looking at the students passing next to him to enter the Hall. They weren’t trying to hide their whispering at all, openly giving him weirded out glances and talking loudly enough for him to hear, as if daring him to say something.

_“He says he duelled You-Know-Who."_

_“I heard he’s gone mad."_

_“Does he actually think any of us would believe him?"_

“Harry." 

A hand was placed on his chest, gentle but firm enough to stop him, making Harry realize he had been moving towards one of the voices. He looked up, finding two silver eyes focused on him before Draco sent a nasty glance to a nearby group and grabbed one of Harry’s hands firmly, “Let’s take a walk, shall we?" 

Harry let himself be led out of the Hall and towards the grounds, enjoying the grounding warmth of Draco’s hand on his. They walked in silence and Harry felt himself calming down a bit, still angry but not as ready to burst as he had felt before. The sun had already begun to set when Draco stopped them by a tree, beckoning Harry to sit down next to him against it and wordlessly passing him an apple. 

“Thanks,” said Harry, taking a bite. It was sweet. 

“That woman is a toad, Harry,” said Draco. “She’s going to keep Fudge’s stupid position all year. You can’t let her get to you." 

Harry rested his head against the tree and sighed. “That’s what McGonagall said.”

“She called her a toad?"

“No, she said I had to keep my head down and _control my temper,_ ” muttered Harry.

Draco hummed. “Can’t say I disagree." 

“But I’m telling the truth!” protested Harry, sitting up to look at him. “Voldemort is out there, and the Ministry keeps feeding lies to everyone, and now they aren’t even going to teach us how to defend ourselves!"

"Harry-" 

"No. I can't just do nothing and keep my head down while she is putting everyone at risk!"

"Fine! Then what are you planning to do exactly?" snapped Draco. "Fight with her every class until the end of the year?"

Harry frowned. "So what I'm supposed to do? Say nothing like you all did during class?"

"Exactly," replied Draco. Before Harry could retort he wouldn't do that, he raised a finger to shush him. "Why do you think we didn't say anything during class?"

"Do you want me to answer that?"

Draco frowned at him. "Let me answer it for you, Potter. We didn't say anything because we didn't have to."

That didn't make any sense. "Umbridge's stupidity affects all of us," said Harry. "It's not just about defending ourselves, it's about the examinations as well. Didn't you hear Parvati?"

"I did, Harry," said Draco. "And that's exactly it. We didn't say anything, because you were already doing it." 

"So it's a matter of laziness?"

"No, Scarhead," said Draco, grinning at him. "It's a matter of picking your fights instead of jumping in every single one. And that’s what you have to do."

"And let someone else do the job? Because no one else is going to do it." 

Draco sighed. "So thick. Listen, Harry, if you keep antagonizing the woman you are just going to keep getting the same result. Which is deducted House Points and…?"

"Detention the whole week."

"Detention- _Detention the whole week_?!" repeated Draco. He shook his head. "Not the moment. But yes, you will be getting that all year long. So...?"

"I need to find a different way," finished Harry. He sighed. "I get it, but, Draco, it's so _frustrating_ to know the truth and have everyone call me a liar. Not only that toad and Fudge but also the rest of the school." 

Draco reached to cup Harry's face between his hands, making him look at his eyes. "Harry, I believe you," he said seriously. "Your minions believe you and I'm sure people with half a brain believe you as well. There's always going to be idiots, but you have to get it through your thick head that the people that matter have your back, alright?"

"Alright," said Harry. He let out another sigh and pulled Draco into a hug, hiding his face on the crook of his neck and just breathing in. Soon Draco's fingers were gently threading through his hair, comforting like his words, and Harry felt himself feeling better. "Thank you."

Draco hummed. "Do you really have detention all week?"

"Starting tomorrow, every evening," mumbled Harry against his shoulder. 

There was a huff. "Now the toad is affecting me too. Rotten woman." 

Harry raised his head to look at him. "Why?"

"Because she leaves me less time to do this," said Draco, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on Harry's lips. It was sweeter than the apple and over too soon in Harry’s opinion. The blond smiled at him. “Since we are skipping dinner, why don’t we visit the library and get started on the essay?"

“Isn’t it too late for that?"

“We have an hour left.” Draco stood up, primly brushed off the grass from his trousers and offered a hand to Harry. “If you don’t stare at me too much, it’ll be enough." 

Harry let himself be pulled to his feet. “I’m not making any promises."

\---

Harry walked into the common room with an excellent mood, a dumb grin and a finished essay on moonstone properties. Hermione was in the middle of a discussion with Fred and George, probably about the unconscious students next to them, and Ron was sitting on a couch, frowning at his parchment.

“What happened with the twins?” asked Harry, taking the spot on the couch next to him. 

“They were testing their products on first-years,” said Ron. He gave Harry a concerned look. “What did McGonagall say?”

"Detention all week."

"That sucks," groaned Ron.

After threatening the twins with writing to Mrs.Weasley, Hermione thanked Ron for his _huge help_ and stormed up the stairs. The boy looked startled for a moment, mumbled something about him 'not being able to stop the twins either way' and then left his parchment on the couch with a defeated sigh. “There’s no point in doing this without her. I don’t know anything about moonstones and whatever one might use them for." 

Harry grinned at him, leaning down to take out his finished essay from his bad. “I do,” he said, waving the rolled-up parchment.

Ron stared at him in silence for a moment and then smacked him on the arm. “You _sodding_ bastard,” he hissed, hitting Harry again. “Here we were worried about you missing dinner to get yelled at by McGonagall, and you were just fooling around." 

Harry couldn't help but laugh. “Do you want my help or not?

“Of course I do,” said Ron, picking up his parchment and raising his quill. “Now, what did your _squeeze_ say-” Ron laughed when Harry stood up to leave. “Sorry, sorry, just tell me how to use the damn stones."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! I'll be reading your comments! See you on Monday!


	7. September 6, Wednesday: Declaration of War

Walking down the grounds to Care of Magical Creatures used to feel like a break, but now that Hagrid was all but missing in action it just contributed more to Harry’s terrible day. He had skipped both breakfast and lunch to finish homework. Had been one of the worst in Transfigurations because he didn’t have time to practice the Vanishing spell. And he knew that tomorrow wouldn’t be better because he had detention again that evening. 

After delivering his sketch of the bowtruckle to Grubbly-Plank, Harry went to stand by Draco while she started giving the instructions for the class. The blond finished saying something to Parkinson and turned to look at him, his white grin falling at once. “You look _awful_." 

“Thanks."

“What happened?” asked Draco, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright."

Harry paused for a moment, not liking how worried the blond looked. “Yes,” he resolved. “Just, you know, a lot of homework and I’m quite behind because of detention." 

Draco opened his mouth to speak but closed it when Grubbly-Plank passed by the groups, handing sketches made by other students for them to correct. Once she was gone, he turned towards him again. “At what time do you think she will let you leave?"

“About ten, or so,” sighed Harry.

The blond hummed. “I could try to meet you afterwards, so we do our homework together." 

Harry blinked at him. “Really?"

“Of course, Scarhead,” said Draco, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry wanted to say yes, but a thought crossed his mind. “No, it’s fine,” he said, then rushing to explain himself when the blond frowned, “You already helped me with the Potions essay, I’m sure I can manage with the rest." 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?"

“Yeah,” lied Harry. His homework situation was desperate, but he didn’t want Draco to stay up late, or see the cuts on his hands fresh after detention. Harry cleared his throat. “Besides, we can meet to study during the weekend, right?"

“Right,” said Draco, studying Harry carefully for a long moment. Then he shrugged and started correcting his sketch.

\---

Harry left detention late that evening, watching how the cuts on his hand closed but still left the skin around them raw and red. His head hurt from the sheer anger at Umbridge, who had once again sat in front of him calmly, taking her tea with a side of his suffering. As he walked through the halls, the distant sound of a discussion reached his ears, making him rush ahead when he recognized the voices.

“You can’t do that!” protested Fred.

“You will find that I _can,_ ” said Draco calmly. His back was to Harry, as he faced the twins and a group of scared first years. “So hand them over." 

George shook his head. “There are no rules that prohibit making or testing products. I know my rights." 

“Prefects can confiscate possessions if they are prohibited-" 

“These are not prohibited!" 

“-or if they deem them dangerous,” continued Draco without a hitch. “And,” he pointed at a pale looking first-year whose nose was bleeding, “These look dangerous to me, so I’m confiscating them." 

George glared at the blond, his eyes finally spotting Harry standing behind him. “Can you tell your boyfriend to stop being a prat?"

“He is _not_ a prat,” said Harry, approaching the group to stand next to Draco.

“He is _being_ one” retorted Fred. “We haven’t done anything wrong." 

“Apart from breaking curfew and carrying dangerous objects,” said Draco easily, seemingly unfazed by Harry's arrival. “Hand them over and leave before I have you scrubbing floors for two weeks."

“Oh, yeah?” said George. “What if I scrub the floor with your face?"

Draco hummed. “Threatening a prefect? That will be another week then-" 

“Wait, wait,” cut in Harry, raising a hand to try to defuse the situation before it became a fight. “Let’s calm down." 

Fred gestured angrily. “He isn’t even supposed to be patrolling around here. That’s Ron’s job." 

There was a beat of silence when Draco didn't reply, and both Harry and the twins turned to look at him in surprise. The blond wasn't even looking at them, his eyes fixed on the back of Harry’s raised hand. Harry’s _right_ hand, with the fresh scars. "What is _that_?" asked Draco coolly.

“Nothing."

His attempt to hide it was botched by Draco snatching it fast as lighting, bringing it close to himself to examine it. “Harry,” he asked after a moment, his voice eerily calm. “What did you say your detention implied, again?"

“Lines,” sighed Harry. “I have to write lines." 

There was a heavy silence, that lasted until it was broken by a clap. “Right, we are just going to go," said Fred, nudging the first years to start walking again. 

“Just leaving,” added George and the group hurried away. 

Draco didn’t even spare them a glance, his silver eyes focused on Harry’s hand. He ran a finger around the scars, frowning when Harry hissed. “Tell me,” he demanded, eyes still down. 

“I have to write, well, that,” said Harry, referring to the _‘I must not tell lies’_ on his hand. “Over and over with this weird quill, and it sort of cuts the words on my hand." 

“She has you doing this for hours?"

“Yes,” admitted Harry, feeling a bit defeated. “But it doesn’t hurt that bad." 

“I see,” said Draco. He looked up at Harry, his silver eyes looking like steel. “I am going to kill her." 

It was just an expression, but perhaps it was the way he said it that made Harry worry he would actually do it. “Draco-" 

“No,” cut in Draco. “Harry, she is _torturing_ you.” The blond bristled in anger. “You have to tell your Head of House- No, you have to tell Dumbledore." 

Harry frowned. “No, I’m not giving her the satisfaction. And Dumbledore has enough on his plate as it is." 

Draco blinked at him as if in disbelief. “Harry, it’s his _sodding job_ to ensure nothing like _this_ -" he pointed at Harry's hand " _-_ happens."

“I’m not going to Dumbledore,” said Harry, and it was final. “Listen, it’s just 2 more days. I can endure it." 

“But you shouldn’t have to." 

“I’ll be fine,” assured Harry. “You told me to pick my fights, didn’t you? That’s what I’m trying to do." 

The blond sighed. “I didn’t mean this, Harry." He looked at his hand again. “Does it hurt badly?"

It did, but Harry shrugged. “I’ve had worse." 

“That is _not_ reassuring,” said Draco, and then he brought Harry’s hand to his lips, gently kissing the skin just next to the scars, the gesture rendering Harry speechless. The blond looked up at him with a slight frown. “You must be tired, let’s get you back to your common room." 

Harry blinked, feeling a bit struck. “Alright." 

\---

“Is this why you didn’t want us to study together?” asked Draco, as they walked up the set of stairs to the common room.

Harry nodded. “Yes, but I also didn’t want you to stay up so late." 

“So chivalrous,” mused Draco, coming to stop just a few steps before the end. He looked at the sleeping Fat Lady, “So this is the famous portrait, I heard she is a god-awful singer." The portrait let out a loud snore as in response and Draco scrunched his nose in distaste, then turning to look up at Harry. “Well, off to bed with you." 

“Yes, sir,” jabbed Harry. “But I think I will get started on my assignments before. There are too many things to do."

The blond hummed, tapping his fingers on the stairs’ railing. “Meet me at the library during break tomorrow. Let’s see what I can do." 

Harry beamed at him. “You are the best." 

“Flattery,” mused Draco. He took another half step, placed a hand on the railing and leaned up to brush his lips against Harry’s, softly, like the caress of a snitch’s wings in one’s hand. The blond then pulled back, enough to look at Harry in the eyes and whisper, “Goodnight, Scarhead." 

“Yeah, _good night_ ” repeated a third voice, making both of them jump and turn around to notice Ron walking up the stairs, doing a bad attempt to hide his broom behind his back.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Flying at this hour, _Weasley_?"

“Snogging at this hour, _Malfoy_?” retorted Ron.

The blond blushed. “I was actually patrolling, which, as you _should_ know, is what prefects do,” he said coolly, then smirking at the ginger. “Which reminds me, let your brothers know I’m taking ten points from Gryffindor, for breaking curfew.

“ _Harry_ is breaking curfew too,” pointed out Ron. “Because of you." 

“ _Harry_ had _detention,_ ” retorted Draco, with a hint of bitterness on his voice. For a brief moment he paused, eerily still, and when he turned to smile at Harry there was an intensity in his silver eyes. “Sleep easy, love,” he said, the wish sounding like a promise.

“Yeah, sure,” said Harry, a bit startled again. Draco had a certain way to strike him dumb. He watched as he descended the stairs gracefully, poised back and head raised like a noble. "You too!” he yelled after him, receiving an amused wave in answer.

“ _Sleep easy, love,_ ” mimicked Ron.

Harry shoved him. “Don’t be a git. Where have you been, anyway?"

Ron seemed reluctant to answer. “I’ve been practising, because,” he paused, as if unsure. “I want to try out for Keeper, since I have a good broom now, and all." 

“That’s brilliant,” said Harry, noticing how his friend seemed relieved by that. “Wish I could go watch the tryouts, but, you know..." 

“Yeah, detention. That sucks,” sighed Ron. “What is she making you do?"

Harry grimaced. “Let’s go in and find Hermione. I’ll tell you both."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! See you on Thursday!


	8. September 9, Saturday: Dare

"Draco's coming to watch our Quidditch practice later," commented Harry as he served himself some toast from the uncrowded Gryffindor table. Breakfast was served early at 8 every day, but during the weekends it remained until 10, in case students chose to sleep in a bit more. And as it turned out, a lot of them did. “I mean, he always did, along with the Slytherins, so it’s not really different from usual." 

"I think it's very different, mate." Ron looked up from his eggs and bacon, suddenly looking a bit uncertain. "About the practice, do you think we could meet up earlier, and practice a bit? It’s my first practice as Keeper, and, you know..."

Harry immediately loved the idea. "Yeah, of course. Let's go after breakfast."

It pleased Ron, but not Hermione, who scoffed at them disapprovingly. “Should you be wasting your time like that? Must I remind you are both behind on homework?"

“I’m not _that_ behind,” said Harry, because he wasn't. He had a pile of work, sure, but it had gone back to normal size after he started working with Draco. He opened his mouth to say just that when something else caught his eye. "Ah, Hermione, look!"

The morning post had arrived, one of the owls separating from the rest to land on the table next to her to deliver the Daily Prophet. As the girl placed the knuts on the small bag the owl carried, Ron and Harry shared a grin to celebrate her distraction. But then Hermione opened the paper and her face blanched. “Oh, no," she let out, not waiting for them to ask before showing both of them the front page. 

Harry’s stomach sunk when he recognized who was on it. 

“Someone tipped them off on Sirius being in London,” read Ron aloud, then looking at them seriously. “Do you think someone snitched?"

“No,” said Harry gravely. “It was Lucius Malfoy. He recognized him at the platform." 

Hermione gaped. “He did?"

Harry nodded, looking sideways to check no one was listening to them. But there was no danger, the table was almost empty. “He saw the dog and told Draco it was him."

His friends shared a glance as if disbelieving. “And Malfoy told you?" asked Ron.

“Harry, you didn’t tell him anything, right?” whispered Hermione, sounding concerned “About Sirius?"

Harry couldn't help but frown. “No, Hermione, I didn’t. He just saw me with the dog and thought he should tell me."

Hermione hummed. “Well, what is clear is that he can’t be leaving the house anymore." She pursed her lips. “Dumbledore _did_ warn him against it. He should have listened."

They remained in heavy silence until Ron leaned forwards to grab another serving of bacon and Hermione huffed at him. Harry watched them bicker, eating through his toast. He would have to tell Sirius about Lucius having identified him, but sending another letter could be too risky. He had sent one to him last week, and Filch had almost caught him.

“I think we should start with Sprout’s essay,” started Hermione once they had finished. “And then- Where are you going?” she hissed when they stood up.

“Practising,” answered Ron, shoving Harry to start walking. “Wanna come?"

Hermione followed them, just the table separating them from her irritation. “Are you two _serious_? You both are far behind in homework, and this isn’t a year to slack off. We have the _O.W.Ls_." 

“We can do it later,” huffed Ron, waving a hand dismissively.

Harry nodded in agreement. He did feel a bit guilty about the pile of homework waiting for him, but it was such a good day and flying sounded absolutely amazing.

“If you keep this attitude you are going to fail,” chastised Hermione, finally reaching the end of the table and catching up to them as they left the Great Hall.

Ron groaned. “We will be fine." 

“I’m not letting you copy from me, Ronald!” warned Hermione. “And Harry, Malfoy shouldn’t let you copy from him either!"

“Excuse you?” came a posh voice, making them halt and turn around. Draco, Parkinson and, surprisingly, Luna Lovegood were standing by a wall just outside the Great Hall, looking at them, the first two in amusement and the latter in her usual far-away way.

“Hello,” greeted Luna politely, her radish earring dangling as she smiled at them, friendly and so unlike to the sneer Parkinson sent them. 

“What’s the ruckus about?" asked Parkinson disdainfully. "I’ll deduct points for screaming down the halls." 

Hermione frowned. "I wasn’t screaming, and you can’t deduct points from other Prefects." 

Parkinson shrugged and flashed her a grin. “I’ll just deduct them from Potter, then." 

“There’s no need, Pans,” said Draco, then raising an eyebrow at Hermione. “For your information, Granger, I do not let Harry copy from me." 

“I see.” Hermione looked a bit embarrassed, but just for a brief moment, before her gaze flickered from Draco to Harry, lips pursed in a way that usually meant she was considering something. After another flicker, Harry caught the idea and almost gaped. She certainly wouldn’t- “Harry’s behind on his homework, you know, yet he insists on leaving it for later." 

She did. “ _Hermione_!” 

This time, Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry, looking vaguely amused. “Is he now? And just yesterday he was complaining about the lots of things he had to do." 

Luna cooed “Oh, oh”, while Parkinson just smirked. 

“I’m helping Ron practise before the real practice” explained Harry sheepishly. “It’s going to be his first one as our Keeper-" 

“Oh, you got in the team?” said Luna, turning her dreamy smile towards Ron. “Those are great news." 

“Yeah, for the rest of the houses,” grinned Parkinson.

Ron reddened. “Shut up." 

“I see,” said Draco. He looked away briefly, his lips slightly pouty. “Well, I thought we could study together in the library now, but if you are too busy..." 

“No!” blurted Harry, then grimacing at Ron’s frown. “I mean, yes. Sorry, I already promised Ron." 

The blond shrugged. “Alright, then." 

Harry grabbed his hand, making the blond blink at him. “Can we study together later, after practice? It’s just that the week was a bit,” he sighed, “you know, and I thought I could take a break. I know it’s not what I should do, but-" 

“No,” cut in Draco, something cold flashing in his eyes. “No, you do deserve a break,” he said and leaned in to kiss Harry’s cheek. His eyes had softened when he pulled back and gave Harry’s right hand a gentle squeeze. It had healed well, the pain soothed by the solution Hermione had given him the day after he told her about the detention. Draco smiled at him. "It’s been a rough week, so go have some fun." 

Harry blinked at him, awed at the lingering warmth on his face that made his head feel light. 

"But-" came Hermione's disagreement, quickly dismissed by the wave of Draco's hand.

“I’ll help him after practice,” said Draco easily, probably already deciding what they would begin with. “Plus, I’m sure that we can finish the rest tomorrow." 

“See?” said Ron to Hermione, almost victoriously. 

Hermione glared at him. “You do know he means Harry only, right?"

Harry beamed at Draco. “You are the best." 

“Naturally,” grinned the blond, giving his hand another squeeze before stepping back. “See you later, Scarhead, and do not fall off your broom. At least not before your actual practice, I want to be there to see that." 

“I won’t,” said Harry, watching him walk away.

“Are you done now?” asked Parkinson as she and Luna followed Draco down the hallway. Her tone was teasing like the light shove she gave the blond. “Or do you need to help him on his broom too?"

“I think it was sweet,” said Luna.

Parkinson laughed. “Surely you meant _gross_." 

Harry, Ron and Hermione watched them leave, Draco bickering with Parkinson while Luna giggled at the insults. It was an odd sight only for them to see, the halls still void of the students that soon would run down the stairs to catch breakfast before it vanished from the tables.

“Does he always coddle you like that?” asked Hermione after a while. 

Harry snapped his head towards her, feeling his face warm. “He is not _coddling_ me." 

“He kind of is, mate," said Ron, sounding quite amused. “Didn’t know he had it in him." 

“Well, Harry is sorted out, then,” huffed Hermione. Despite Draco's words, she probably still thought not starting their homework that immediate second was a mistake.

Ron grinned. “I am too,” he declared. “Harry is going to coddle _me_." 

There was a beat of silence. “Please don’t ever say that again," said Harry. 

“I won’t. I hated it as soon as it was out,” grimaced Ron. “First of all, _gross_ , and second, Malfoy would _kill_ me." 

\---

Ron and Harry walked back to the Quidditch field after lunch. Even after practising all morning, and not doing it badly at all according to Harry, the ginger was still nervous about practising with the team. 

“Ready, Ronnie?” asked George when they walked into the changing room.

“Yeah,” said Ron quietly, putting on the team robes for the first time.

Harry patted him on the shoulder. “You will do fine, Ron." 

“Yeah, Ronniekins,” jabbed Fred, receiving a dark glare from his younger brother.

“All right everyone!” clapped Angelina, walking in already changed into her red robes. “Let’s get to it. Fay and Katie, grab the ball crate for us. And, just so you all know, there are a few people out there on the stands, I want you all to ignore them, alright?"

 _‘That’s not going to be possible’_ thought Harry, as they left the changing room and stepped into the field. Even from the distance, he could see Draco’s blond hair, gleaming under the sunlight. There were other people next to him, and Harry noticed it was the odd combination of Parkinson, Luna and Zabini. 

“Oh, it’s Potter!” yelled Parkinson, waving at them. Harry couldn't tell if her voice was just that loud on the empty field, or if she had used a spell. “Go on, fall off your broom for us!"

“Harry! Focus!” snapped Angelina. He snatched his gaze from Draco glaring at Parkinson back to her and took off to join the circle of floating team-members. Angelina clapped again. “Alright, I want us to start with some passes to warm up, so spread out and let’s see how we do." 

The spread far away, and if Harry used that opportunity to get closer to the stands, it was totally deliberate. He glanced at the group from the corner of his eye and grinned when he found Draco looking at him. He turned back just in time to see George passing the Quaffle to him, managed to catch it and passed it to Ron, who dropped it. 

Harry grimaced. “Come on, Ron,” he whispered. 

Face red, Ron went to recover the Quaffle and passed it to Alicia, who passed it to Harry. He caught it and passed it to George, then glancing over his shoulder at the stands. Zabini seemed to be listening to Luna and Parkinson. _‘How did that happen?’_ thought Harry briefly, his gaze moving on towards Draco.

“Nice catch, Scarhead!” called the blond when he noticed Harry’s eyes on him. 

Harry grinned, and then barely registered Draco’s warning gesture before the Quaffle collided with the back of his head. “Ouch,” he muttered, managing to catch it before it plummeted to the ground. He rubbed his head, unsure if it hurt more than his pride.

There was a loud laugh coming from the stands, and Harry didn’t have to look to know it was Parkinson. He still did and saw Draco trying not to laugh, while Parkinson was doubled over from laughter and Zabini snickered discreetly behind a hand. “Good catch, Harry!” called Luna and Parkinson laughed even louder. 

Harry turned towards the team and found Angelina glaring at him. “Harry, I told you we have to ignore them." 

“No dice,” chimed in Fred, zooming in with a mischievous smile. “Malfoy came all the way here to look at him." 

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t he always?"

Fred let out a laugh. “Alright, fair, but not the same." 

“Just get to the point,” said Angelina impatiently.

Harry felt his face heat up. “We are, er, together."

“Wait.” Angelina raised a hand as if to stop him, even when he wasn't saying anything. “You are telling me that _you_ and _Draco Malfoy_ are dating,” she said slowly. “You are telling me that."

Harry nodded.

“I see,” said Angelina, pausing to think for a brief moment before frowning at Harry. “This better not affect your performance, Potter. The first match is against Slytherin and _he_ is playing Seeker,” she raised a warning finger. “If you make a _single_ mistake today for not being able to keep your eyes off your boyfriend, you are out of the team. Are we clear?"

“Yes,” said Harry, honestly a bit ashamed. “Er, yes, captain." 

“Good,” said Angelina, then flying off.

Harry did manage to keep his eyes on the practice, despite the overwhelming itch to just glance at Draco and see whatever he was doing. _‘But I can’t miss another pass in front of him’_ thought Harry. 

Ron was still nervous, and when he finally managed to catch the Quaffle, on his enthusiasm he passed it straight into Katie’s face, giving her a nasty nosebleed. The twins ushered to her side while Angelina sighed. She then called for a practice match, telling Harry to release the snitch when she said so.

Harry took the opportunity to approach Ron, “Hey." 

“Hey,” said Ron, voice but a whisper. “I’m screwing up, mate." 

“A bit,” shrugged Harry. “But it’s just the nerves." 

“I don’t know, Harry” sighed Ron. “Perhaps I’m not cut for this." 

Harry frowned, “You were doing well before, Ron. Trust me, it’s just the nerves." He eyed the field, checking that he still had time, “I make a fool of myself when I’m nervous too, you know. I mean, last year I ended up opening the Golden Egg in the middle of the owlery because I didn’t come up with a good way to explain it to Draco." 

Ron grimaced. “I remember." 

“And this year I said ‘ _goodbye, sir’_ to Lucius Malfoy." 

“You didn’t,” gaped Ron, cracking a smile. “Harry, you didn’t. In that same tone?" 

“I think your dad thought I was sick, or something,” continued Harry. “The worst part is that Draco told me his father thought I was making fun of him." 

Ron snorted, and just in time because Angelina blew the whistle for the match to start and Harry had to let the snitch go and zoom after it.

The practice still didn't go ideally good. Ron did make mistakes, like hovering on one side and leaving the other two posts undefended. But at least he didn't look miserable anymore, and after he managed to save one goal, his confidence grew. Sadly, it wasn’t given much time to bloom because Katie's nosebleed didn't stop and Angelina had to call off practice, while Katie was carried away to the Hospital Wing by two guilty-looking twins.

"She is scarier than Hermione," mused Ron, as they walked out of the changing room.

Draco was waiting for them by the exit of the field. “How’s the head, Harry?” he grinned. 

“Git,” said Harry, reaching for his hand. “Where are the others?"

“They left after Weasley stopped dropping the Quaffle, said it was too boring,” drawled Draco. “Personally, I found the nose bleeding interesting. Is that a new tactic you are trying? Bleeding on your opponents?"

“Sod off, Malfoy,” muttered Ron. “Why was Katie bleeding so much anyway? I didn’t hit her that hard, right?"

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley. Your brothers gave her something that worsened it, according to Lovegood."

“I meant to ask about that,” said Harry. “Since when are you all friends with Luna?"

“Beats me. It’s just Pansy being Pansy." Draco shrugged. “You would have to ask her about it, I just know I’m not allowed to say _Loony_ anymore." 

“What about Zabini, then?” asked Ron with suspicion.

“That’s just Zabini being Zabini,” said Harry. He raised his eyebrows at Draco. “Right?"

Draco grinned at him. “Exactly. Now, let’s get going at once. We should start with Transfiguration or History, I’ll let you pick." 

“If I do History now I’m going to fall asleep,” admitted Harry.

“Transfiguration it is,” said Draco, “Then-" 

“Can I come?” asked Ron, looking uncomfortable when the pair turned to look at him. “I mean, it’s fine if I can’t." 

Harry looked at Draco, finding the blond with a troubled expression, until he glanced at Harry and sighed, “Fine." 

Ron gaped. “What, really?"

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Weasley,” said Draco dismissively, but then gave Harry a pointed look. “You can do it." 

Harry laughed, pulling the blond closer to him. “Have I told you how wonderful you are?"

“Flattery,” grinned Draco. “Go on." 

“You are not going to be flirting the entire time, right?” asked Ron. “Right?"

\---

They walked into the common room at half-past 10, and Ron immediately kneeled in front of Hermione, who sat in one of the couches with a book in her lap.

“What is it?” she asked, visibly startled. “Are you alright?"

“Hermione,” croaked Ron, grabbing at the couch. “I’m never going to be mean to you again, please help me with my homework." 

Hermione huffed. “I told you Malfoy wouldn’t help you." 

“But he did. We just left the library,” said Harry, holding up his finished essay. “We are meeting again tomorrow." 

“He did?” repeated Hermione incredulous, then frowning down at Ron. “Then what is the problem?”

Ron grabbed her by the shoulders. “Hermione,” he said gravely. “They barely looked at me. I third-wheeled for 3 hours while they flirted with each other the entire time. I’m never studying with them again." 

Hermione blinked at him in surprise, first cracking a smile, then letting out a huff, and finally breaking into delighted laughter that filled the Common Room.

“It’s not funny!” protested Ron. “You try to be there while Harry spends the entire time just _gazing_ into Malfoy’s eyes. Malfoy had to repeat himself three times on one occasion. Three times! And the bastard wasn’t even mad about it!"

“Serves you right,” grinned Hermione.

“Please, Hermione” Ron clasped his hands as if praying. “You are the smartest person ever, please save me from them." 

There was a beat of silence as Hermione just looked at him. "Well," she said, sounding mollified. “Alright, I can help you tomorrow." 

“You are a lifesaver,” said Ron, standing up while beaming at her. “Seriously, the best." 

_‘Flattery,’_ thought Harry, but before he could think about that any further he heard his name being called from behind. He turned around quickly, towards the lit fireplace, “ _Sirius_?"

“I got your letter,” said Sirius, once the three of them checked the room was empty and knelt before the fireplace. Harry ignored Hermione’s glare and told Sirius about his scar. The man hummed, “I doubt it’s anything to worry about. Didn’t it hurt last year as well? Must hurt more often now that he is up and running again." 

Harry didn’t feel much assured, but accepted it and went on about Umbridge. “She’s not letting us any magic." 

“We only read a stupid textbook,” muttered Ron and Hermione nodded gravely.

Sirius scoffed. “That figures. Our information tells us Fudge doesn’t want you trained in combat."

 _“Trained in combat_?” repeated Harry. “Does he think we are going to build an army or something?"

“Pretty much,” answered Sirius, explaining Fudge’s paranoia about Dumbledore taking on the Ministry of Magic. If Harry didn’t already think the man was an idiot, he would definitely do so now. Sirius seemed reluctant to answer when Hermione asked about Hagrid. “He was supposed to be back by now,” he said. “But I’m sure he is fine. Dumbledore isn’t worried about it and he wasn’t alone." 

“But if he should be back by now...” mused Hermione.

“Listen, don’t go around asking about Hagrid,” said Sirius. “It will raise suspicion. Instead, tell me when your next visit to Hogsmeade is, I was thinking I could go as we did in the station-" 

“NO!” exclaimed the three Gryffindors at the same time. “Sirius, didn’t you read the Daily Prophet today?” said Hermione.

Instead of being affronted, the man let out a laugh. “They are always guessing where I am, I’m sure they have no idea." 

“No, Sirius, they do this time,” said Harry. “Lucius Malfoy recognized you at the platform. He must have been the one to tell the Ministry." 

Sirius paused for a moment, then frowning slightly. “I assume dear Draco told you this,” he said slowly, looking at Harry curiously. “And if he saw me at Hogsmeade, do you think he would tell his father?"

Harry frowned. “He wouldn’t, but-" 

“Then it’s settled,” grinned Sirius, laughing at their uncertain faces. “The Ministry might know where I am, but they don’t know about me being an animagus. If they did, it would be on the front page." 

“Sirius, I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” said Hermione.

“I’ll be fine. Come on, kids, live a little. I’m going crazy here.” Sirius shook his head. “Besides,” he gave Harry a heavy look. “We could use the opportunity to test dear Draco’s loyalties. You are sure he won’t say anything, right?"

“He won’t,” stated Harry firmly, ignoring the looks from his friends. 

“We shall see,” mused Sirius. “I’ll keep in touch, then," he added, then disappearing with a _pop_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As usual, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! See you on Monday!


	9. September 12, Tuesday: Nobody Expects Umbridge’s Inquisition

Harry really thought he deserved an award because holding his tongue instead of snapping at Umbridge was no easy task. Especially now that she had been appointed High Inquisitor by the idiotic Minister and kept showing up to classes and looking over the professors’ shoulders. Seeing Umbridge walk around the school so arrogantly was infuriating, and now that Harry had seen her during Transfigurations, he thought he wouldn't have to see her again that day. But he was wrong because even from the remaining distance to the grounds it was easy to recognize the all-pink outfit. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione made a beeline to one of the tables with a captured bowtruckle. They listened to Umbridge question Grubbly-Plank on Hagrid’s whereabouts, to which the professor replied she didn’t know, then started the class. They were supposed to watch over the bowtruckle’s escape from the cage, to learn about their lock-picking abilities. It sounded interesting, but Harry’s attention kept going back to Umbridge, who walked around the class asking questions to the students. 

After checking on Dean’s interrogation, Harry turned back, finding Draco looking at him from the table he shared with his friends. Harry raised his eyebrows at him, grinning when the blond blinked as if he had lost his train of thought. Instead of grinning back, Draco gave him a thin smile that told Harry something was off. 

Umbridge was talking to Grubbly-Plank near their table and seemed irritated when the professor praised Hagrid. “Well, _you_ seem to know what you are doing,” said the horrid woman, looking at her pink clipboard. “Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class." 

"Uh, oh," said Ron.

Harry’s eyes flew back to Draco, finding the blond pursing his lips in consideration. He sent Harry the same look he sent him during Defense class whenever Harry had been close to snapping at the woman and then straightened up. “Yes, that was me,” he said. “There was an incident with a hippogriff." 

“A hippogriff?” repeated Umbridge, scribbling frantically on her clipboard.

“What is he doing?” whispered Ron, exchanging a glance with Harry and Hermione. The three of them abandoned their attempts to study the bowtruckle in favour of listening to Draco tell Umbridge a slightly altered version of the events. “That’s one way of saying he insulted it,” muttered Ron when Draco said he had approached the creature incorrectly.

Harry hummed, Draco wasn’t admitting his mistake, but he wasn’t putting the entire blame on Hagrid either, even casually mentioning he was taken to the Hospital Wing rather quickly. In truth, Harry was more bothered by Draco’s politeness than his retelling of the events. He talked to Umbridge as if she were a respectable human being, which made no sense at all. _‘Didn’t you say you were going to kill her?’_ thought Harry, feeling a pang of betrayal.

Umbridge finished writing on her clipboard and smiled at Draco. “Thank you, dear." 

“Of course, professor,” said Draco with a charming smile that seemed to please the woman. Then, as soon as she left, the blond turned to his friends and rolled his eyes theatrically. Parkinson snickered as the rest of the Slytherins shared a complicit grin, then going back to their examination of the bowtruckle. It was clear that for them the sudden change wasn’t nearly as puzzling as it was to Harry. 

When class ended, Harry stayed behind to wait for the blond, watching as he told his friends to go ahead before approaching Harry. “Hi,” said Draco, placing his bag on the table. He took a deep breath and looked at Harry seriously. “I hope that you know that if it were for me, I wouldn’t have said anything about that chicken." 

“But?” asked Harry.

" _But_ Umbridge most likely already knew about it and was just scavenging for details,” continued Draco. “She would have known if I lied to her." 

Harry frowned. “Does it matter what she thinks?"

“ _Does it matter what she thinks_ \- Of course it does,” said Draco. “She is the _High Inquisitor_ , Harry. That wasn’t even a position until now. I’d rather not get on her bad side."

Harry felt bitter at the reminder. “So you’d rather get on her good side." 

The blond scoffed. “I’d rather have her disposed of. But yes, it’s necessary." 

“Why?”

Draco hummed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you yet." 

Harry was honestly tired of not being told things. 

“Fine,” sighed Draco. “I’ll tell you later, so stop frowning,” he raised a finger to poke the crease between Harry’s eyebrows. “You will get lines." 

Harry rolled his eyes humorously. “I’ll get lines anyway, it’s called ageing. You will get them as well." 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Doubtful." He grabbed Harry’s hand and gave it a light pull. “Come on, I can’t be late for Charms." 

“Yes, sir,” grinned Harry.

\---

The library was eerily quiet after dinner, not because of the lack of people, but because those that went at the late hour usually wanted to get their work done quickly and didn’t waste time talking to each other. Harry wasn’t one of them, because he enjoyed the moments at the library quite a lot. It was the only moment of the day he really got to spend with Draco. 

The blond was in the middle of writing an essay for Arithmancy, and Harry, who had already finished his essay for Transfiguration, just watched him in silence. Judging from the complicated charts Draco was consulting and the slight frown on his face, the essay was no easy task. 

“Don’t you have something else to do?” said Draco without taking his eyes off the essay. “Instead of staring at me." 

Harry hummed. “Sprout didn’t leave homework today, so no." The professor was probably going to leave a big assignment tomorrow, though. 

Draco glanced at him, a grin stretching his lips. “What about that dream-diary you have? That sounds rather challenging." 

“Laugh all you want,” said Harry. “I’d like to see _you_ try to come up with a new dream every day." 

“Or you could just write what you dream." Draco went back to his essay. “Just an idea." 

_‘Just a bunch of corridors and doors, then.’_ Harry sighed. “I mean, it doesn’t matter what I write, Trelawney will just say it means I’m going to die a horrible death anyway." 

“She does that?” Draco raised an eyebrow without taking his eyes off his essay. “Divination is a rather untrustworthy field, in my opinion. And that woman sounds like a fraud."

“Most of the time,” said Harry, thinking back to his third-year, where the woman had actually shown some talent on the field. Then he thought about his last class and grimaced. “Umbridge had a field day with her on Monday. Even I felt sorry for her." 

“Of course you did, you saint,” sighed Draco, leaving his quill aside and rolling up his parchment. He looked at Harry and smiled. “Unless you are planning to search for inspiration for your dream-diary, I suggest we get going. It’s getting late." 

“Right, we don’t want to break curfew,” said Harry, picking up his things and standing up. 

Draco pointed at the clock near the entranced of the library as they passed by it. “You are already breaking curfew, Harry," he said with a grin. "There’s no way one can get from here to the dorms in five minutes. It's just a matter of leaving before getting kicked out by Pince." 

“So you could wait outside and just start taking points." 

Draco halted on his steps. “That is an excellent idea, Scarhead." 

“Wait, really?"

“Of course, but I’ll have to try it tomorrow,” said the blond, reaching to hold Harry’s hand. “Right now, I have to talk to you." 

“I hear you,” said Harry, tugging at Draco’s hand to start walking again. But even then it took Draco a few more moments to start talking.

When he did, he spoke slowly. “My father recommended me to get along with Umbridge."

Harry frowned. “Why?"

“He didn’t say,” shrugged Draco. “But he is not one to make such requirements, so there must be a reason. Considering she got crowned as High Inquisitor, I believe her influence will just keep growing from now on." 

The idea of Umbridge walking around the school with a crown and her pink clipboard made Harry scrunch his nose. “Sounds awful." 

“Quite,” conceded Draco. “But it means she’s going to be making the decisions around here, which is why I'd rather avoid getting on her black-list too soon." 

_‘Unlike me.’_ thought Harry and sighed. “I suppose seeing you smile at her is better than seeing you in detention."

Draco halted to look at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You wouldn’t see me in detention anyway, because you wouldn’t be there, right?"

“And miss a chance to see you?” jabbed Harry, laughing when Draco frowned at him. “I won’t, I promise." He pulled the blond closer. “So far I haven’t said another word to her." 

“You were really close sometimes." 

“But I didn’t,” pointed Harry.

Draco hummed. “Just be careful, Harry. I’m sure she is waiting for a chance to make you miserable, especially now that she has more ways to do so." 

“Like a toad waiting for a fly,” said Harry, grinning when Draco cracked a smile. “I’ll control my temper and all that, but you have to be careful too." He raised his right hand, “I’d rather not see you with these." 

“Ah, so concerned with my well-being,” mused Draco, grinning at Harry as well. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to get on her bad side. At least not now." 

Harry blinked. “What does that mean?"

“You know the saying,” started Draco, looking around before leaning in. “Keep your friends close, and...?"

“Your boyfriend even closer?"

Draco huffed, so close Harry felt the air leaving him. “Stop being charming for a second, I’m trying to make a point here." 

Harry nodded. “My bad, please go on. Enlighten me." 

“Perhaps I don’t feel like doing so anymore,” deadpanned Draco, and started walking away. 

Harry laughed, keeping pace with him. “Come on." 

Draco sent him a sideways glance and smiled. “All you have to know, Harry, is that I plan to keep my promise." 

It sounded very cryptical, and many ideas crossed Harry's head. “You are not going to kill her, right?” he asked after a brief pause.

“Probably not," said Draco seriously. Then he glanced at Harry and smiled. “I’m not entirely sure of what I’ll do, I’m just waiting for an opportunity." 

“For what?"

“Not killing her. Sorry to disappoint.” Draco came to a stop again and glanced around the empty corridor before looking at Harry rather seriously. “You owe me a favour," he said, or more so declared. 

“I do,” said Harry, wondering what he could want.

What Draco wanted was rather unexpected. “I need you to trust me with this, can you do that?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. “With what?"

“The toad,” said Draco, stepping closer to Harry. “Can you?"

Harry didn’t answer immediately, transfixed by his eyes once again. It was rather mesmerizing how they could go from smooth silver to unyielding steel in a matter of seconds. “Yes,” he resolved, grabbing both of Draco’s hands to pull him closer. “But, you didn’t need to call a favour, I would have done so anyway." 

“Just making sure,” said Draco, smiling at him again. He then paused, and glanced away briefly before speaking again, “I can ask you something else now if you’d like."

Harry smiled. “Sure, whatever you want." 

Draco looked at him, fixing him into spot with a glare that made Harry wonder if he had somehow angered him. But then he took a deep breath and said, in an almost commanding voice, “Kiss me." His eyes were a pool of silver that captured Harry until his brain finally processed the request and his face went warm.

 _'It’s not a big deal,’_ thought Harry, trying to calm his beating heart. It wasn’t their first time, not even the third, but perhaps it was the nervous expression on Draco's face that made Harry feel as if he were back at the owlery again. Draco was looking at him expectantly, eyes fixed on Harry’s despite the blush darkening his pale cheeks. Harry silently tugged him closer by the hand, using the other to hold the lower side of his face and gently pull him down. “Yes, sir,” he whispered before closing the distance between the two.

The familiar _softness_ was the first thing he felt, the _warmth_ was next, and Harry wanted more. He pushed further, feeling the small sound the other let out. It was a brief, surprised sound that felt like winning a match. Harry wrapped an arm around Draco, holding him in place as he kissed him. There was another sound, short and pleased. Harry chased it, advancing until there was a sudden halt and the soft lips parted. 

A rush ran through him when he felt the small gap as if he were about to jump from a very high place to unexplored but promising depths. Harry could feel his heart drumming on his ears and a hand slightly tensing on his shoulder as he tentatively parted his lips too. The kiss turned _softer_ , _warmer_ and _wet_ for precious seconds before another startled sound left the other and Harry was pushed back.

He couldn’t help but groan at the sudden loss, reluctantly opening his eyes again and finding a view that made him blink twice. Draco’s face was completely red, weakly frowning down at Harry as he covered his mouth with a hand. The other one was on Harry's chest, keeping a small distance between them, and Harry finally noticed Draco's back was pressed against the wall. 

Harry thought back to the sudden halt during the kiss and felt his face flush. "Sorry," he whispered, stepping back. "Was that okay?"

Draco leaned forwards and hid his face on Harry's shoulder. "You can't just ask that,” he mumbled against it. “It's not fair."

“I need to know,” pressed Harry, wanting to hear the answer he felt he already knew.

"Not chivalrous at all," declared Draco, stepping back and tugging Harry by the hand without meeting his eyes. “Come on, you are breaking curfew," he muttered.

Harry grinned, feeling strangely smug. "Are you going to take points from me?"

"If you keep being cocky, I will," huffed Draco, the threat not as menacing due to his still blushing face.

\---

They walked together through the quiet halls, Harry pressing on the issue, grin growing every time Draco pointedly ignored him. "Well, go on," said Draco, coming to stop by the end of the stairs. He finally looked at Harry again, instantly frowning, "I don't appreciate you grinning at me like that." 

Harry laughed. "Sorry, sorry." He squeezed the blond's hand and smiled at him, "I just like you a lot." 

"As you should." Draco rolled his eyes humorously. "Stop being daft and go to sleep, alright?"

"Yes, sir," jabbed Harry, but his teasing grin froze when Draco leaned in to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth, soft and fleeting like a second. 

"Goodnight, Scarhead," said Draco softly, and his lips parted in a grin. "I'm rather fond of you too," he said, not bothering to hear Harry's answer before walking down the stairs in his usual aristocratic way.

 _'You just have to have the last word,'_ thought Harry as he watched him disappear around the corner, his head light as he held a hand to the spot Draco had kissed, somehow still warm. 

\---

Ron and Hermione were sitting on the couch when he entered the Common Room, faces set on identical serious expressions that told Harry they had been waiting for him. 

“Hullo,” he greeted. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, looking amused. "Were you with Malfoy?"

"Yeah, why?"

Ron gestured to his face. "You know, the dumb smile thing." 

Harry laughed, not bothering to deny that. He knew when he was grinning like a fool. "Why are you up?"

"Well, I just finished helping Ron with his homework," said Hermione, closing the book on her lap to place it on the table. "And we wanted to talk to you about something." 

Harry blinked, taking in her seriouis tone. "Alright." He sat down on a chair and looked at them. "I'm listening." 

Ron clasped his hands together. "You see, mate. Umbridge sucks. We are not going to learn anything from her." 

"And we were thinking that we need another teacher," continued Hermione slowly. 

Harry nodded. "Yeah, definitely. But there's no one else." 

Hermione hummed. "Actually, Harry, there is someone that is quite good at Defense, and has actual experience." 

"That's brilliant," said Harry. "Who?"

"It's you," stated Ron, looking at him earnestly. "You should teach us, mate." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very nervous to post this because writing kisses is still a new thing for me! Hoped you liked the chapter! I love reading your comments so please leave some, even if it's just saying hi. I'll see you on Thursday!


	10. October 7, Saturday: Disastrous Meeting

Harry drummed his fingers on the short stone wall by the entrance to Hogsmeade as he waited. Steps on the snow reached his ears, making him look up again to see a familiar group of Slytherins passing-by, throwing him amused looks.

“Did you get stood up, Harry?” asked Zabini without slowing down. He walked next to a serious-looking Theodore Nott, who didn’t spare Harry a single glance.

“I hope not,” answered Harry.

“I would wait sitting if I were you,” said Goyle, a hint of amusement on his deep voice. 

Crabbe followed behind. “He was in front of the mirror when we left." 

Parkinson seemed delighted. “If that’s the case, Potter is going to freeze to death waiting." 

“Oh, poor Harry,” said a familiar airy voice. Luna paused on her steps to look at Harry carefully. She was dressed for the cold and looked perfectly comfortable among the Slytherins. “Good luck, Harry." 

Harry blinked. “With what?"

“With whatever has you nervous, of course,” answered Luna simply. “I’ll see you later, Harry."

Harry watched as she walked away, catching up to Parkinson, who had stopped to wait for her with a curious expression. Luna seemed as tranquil as ever when Parkinson started talking, so Harry was more intrigued than worried about the odd combination.

“Pansy says Lovegood is a riot, but I think she’s just a _loony_ ,” said a posh voice that made Harry crack a smile and turn around. Draco had his blue scarf on, the colour bringing out his eyes perfectly as he gave Harry a white grin. “Hi." 

“Hi,” said Harry, parting from the wall. “I thought you weren’t allowed to say that." 

“She’s not listening, is she?” said Draco. He reached up to pass his fingers through Harry’s hair, humming in appreciation, “You look dashing today." 

“No more than you,” pointed Harry, holding his other hand. “I heard you spent quite some time in the mirror today." 

Draco stopped his movements and frowned at him. “So I’m only dashing after a lot of work, is that what you are saying?"

Harry panicked. “No, of course not. You are always-." He halted his explanation when Draco started laughing and gave him a light shove. “You are a git." 

Draco raised a finger. “An _always_ dashing git."

“An always dashing git,” conceded Harry, then tugging at his hand. “Come on, we are late." 

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow. “Late for what?"

 _‘For a meeting with a runaway criminal,’_ thought Harry. “It’s a surprise." 

The blond hummed, leaning closer to Harry. “Alright, I won’t ask," he said as they started walking towards the village.

The silence lasted exactly 1 minute.

“It’s not Madam Puddifoot’s, right?” asked Draco, nose scrunched in distaste. “Because that place is _tacky_."

Harry had only seen the outside of that tea shop, which was enough to agree with Draco. Madam Puddifoot’s looked as cheesy as it sounded and, most importantly, it looked too Umbridge-like for him.

“I mean, I heard that’s where couples usually go,” continued Draco, probably not liking Harry’s silence. “But I think I’d rather have a picnic with you on the Shrieking Shack than set foot in that horrid place."

It was obviously meant as a joke, because when they passed next to the Shack’s observation point Draco made a small sound and stepped closer to Harry, sending a wary look at the fences. Harry wondered what had him so scared until he remembered his third year. For Harry, it had been hilarious to mess with someone under his invisibility cloak. For Draco, it was probably a terrifying experience to be dragged on the snow by an invisible force.

“Don’t worry,” grinned Harry. “I’ll protect you from the _evil_ ghosts. You don’t have to be scared." 

Draco scowled at him. “I’m not scared, Potter." 

“No bad experiences, then?”

“No,” lied Draco, pushing Harry to walk faster and not stopping until they were far away from the fence. One day Harry would have to tell him what had really happened there, but not today. “Where are we going anyway?" asked Draco.

Harry laughed. “I thought you weren’t going to ask." 

“That was before you lead us out of the village,” said Draco seriously. “Unless you are planning for a picnic, I don’t see what we are doing here."

They finally reached the path to the cave. It was a bit hidden, and rocky, but not dangerous. Draco let Harry lead him near the entrance, but stopped before going in, looking warily at the space.

“It’s safe, don’t worry,” assured Harry. 

Draco didn’t move, frowning at him sternly. “If you think,” he paused, looking a bit pink. “If you think I’m going to let you _kiss me_ in a dirty cave, you are severely mistaken." 

Harry blinked, flushing when he realized how bad it probably looked for him. “No, no,” he hurried to explain. “It’s not that, I promise."

His boyfriend didn't look convinced. “Then what-" His words halted and his face paled as he came to notice something over Harry's shoulder, and he hastily pulled him out of the cave by an arm.

“Hello, cousin,” came Sirius’ voice, and Harry turned to find his godfather leaning against the entrance. Judging from the dishevelled appearance and the bags under his eyes, not being able to leave the house wasn’t good for him.

Draco’s hands squeezed Harry’s right arm, holding him close as he looked at Sirius. “What is _he_ doing here?"

 _‘Well, isn’t this going well,’_ thought Harry. “Draco, this is Sirius-" 

“I know who he is,” cut in Draco. “What I don’t know is what a _wanted criminal_ is doing _here_." 

Sirius scowled. “I’m no criminal, little cousin." 

“To the Ministry you are,” snapped Draco, still holding Harry’s arm tightly. 

“Draco, the Ministry is wrong,” explained Harry softly. “He didn’t do anything they said he did." 

Sirius scoffed. “I’m sure he knows that much, Harry. Wouldn’t be surprised if they celebrated my unjust imprisonment in his house." 

“ _Sirius_."

The man raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. Let’s start again." He cleared his throat and put on a smile that came out as more intimidating than friendly. “I’m here to visit Harry." 

“To _visit_ Harry,” repeated Draco sceptically.

Sirius' eyebrow twitched. “Yes, precisely."

“Oh, then it’s all good,” said Draco brightly, smiling thinly when the other two blinked at him. “Why are you looking at me like that? Of course it’s alright. Who cares about the _entire Ministry of Magic_ looking for him? He wants to _visit_ you." 

Sirius dropped his attempt at a smile. “You don’t need to be concerned about me, I can take care of myself."

“You think this is about you?” hissed Draco, holding his gaze with steel-like eyes. “Do you know what would happen if they found _him_ with a _wanted criminal_?” He tugged at Harry, “The Ministry already has a campaign against him. They would jump at the opportunity to give him something worse than a Hearing!"

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “It will be fine as long as _no one_ goes telling on us." 

“Instead of being concerned about me, you should be concerned about Fudge’s lapdog,” said Draco coolly. “Umbridge has just been crowned Hogwarts High Inquisitor, and here you are, serving her the chance to expel Harry on a silver platter." 

“Ah, but she’s not here now, is she?” asked Sirius, but there was a slight edge to his voice now. 

Draco raised an eyebrow in disdain. “That woman has had it against Harry since day one. If you think she is not actively looking for a chance to make him miserable, you are as idiotic as I thought”

“ _Idiotic_ ,” repeated Sirius, raising a finger. “Listen here, you-" 

“ _Sirius_ ,” warned Harry, noticing how Draco squeezed his arm tighter.

Sirius gaped at him. “But he- Oh, _fine_ ,” he groaned, clenching his hand together. “Little cousin, I’m already here,” he said. “So why don’t we just have a little chat."

“I’d rather not,” said Draco, then glancing at Harry and sighing. “But I suppose I have no other option." 

Sirius clapped, “Brilliant, so-" 

There was a screech from inside the cave and Harry’s arm was squeezed painfully, making it clear that not only Harry had recognized it. 

“Sirius, is Buckbeak here?" he asked, already knowing and hating the answer.

Sirius seemed confused by the question. “Of course he is. Couldn’t come here by train now, could I?"

“I have to go,” said Draco, eyes fixed on the entrance. “Immediately." 

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Are you _scared_ of hippogriffs?"

Draco huffed. “I’m not-" Another screech had him stepping back, “ _-scared_." 

Sirius laughed. “Look at you, pale as a sheet. There’s nothing to be _scared_ of, Buckbeak is rather nice. Here, let me call him-" 

“No!” exclaimed Harry and Draco at the same time. “Sirius, that’s really _not_ a good idea,” explained Harry. 

“Why?” asked Sirius, grinning mischievously. “Is Dear Draco too _scared_ of a little bird?"

 _‘Buckbeak is not a little bird,’_ thought Harry. _‘And Draco might be scared, but he is also very-’_

“I’m not scared of that _bloody chicken_ ,” snapped Draco, letting go of Harry's arm and stepping forwards with a familiar arrogance that brought Harry back to their third year. Again.

 _‘-Proud.’_ Harry hurried to grab Draco by the arm before he could walk into the cave and get himself killed. “That didn’t go well last time,” he said when the blond frowned at him.

Draco freed himself but remained still, glaring darkly at Sirius who now had a wide grin on his face. “I’m leaving,” he resolved, turning to look at Harry. He raised a finger before the other could speak. “No, don’t say anything. I’ll just catch up with you later, alright? Just tell me where." 

“Er, the Hog’s Head."

Sirius made a face. “Not the best establishment." 

“Calling it an establishment is too kind,” said Draco disdainfully, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “Why are you going there?"

Harry hummed. “There _might_ be a meeting today to start a _small_ group to study Defense." 

Despite the contrast between Sirius’ dark scruffy look and Draco’s light pristine one, there was a vague family resemblance between them in the elegance they portrayed as they stared at Harry. It was quickly broken when Sirius let out a bark-like laugh and Draco frowned.

“A secret group for Defense,” mused Sirius, beaming at Harry. “That’s an _excellent_ idea." 

“Yes, an excellent idea for getting expelled,” said Draco coolly. “An idea which, _by the way_ , you didn’t share with me." 

“It wasn’t a sure thing until a few days ago,” explained Harry. “I meant for us to go after visiting Sirius- If you want to, of course. Er, do you want to?"

“Do I want to go to your _very_ public meeting against Umbridge? No, I don’t think I do." 

“It’s not _public_." 

“Did you book the place? Or ask for a private room?"

“No..." 

“Then it’s public, Harry,” sighed Draco. “How many people are going, exactly?"

“I’m not sure,” admitted Harry.

“You are not sure,” repeated Draco, then looking at him in dismay. “Merlin, Harry, what are you doing?"

“He is doing what has to be done,” said Sirius, raising an eyebrow at Draco. “I think that’s _brave,_ but I guess _you_ wouldn’t know about that, little cousin." 

“How would you know?” said Draco coldly. “I never _visited_." 

They glared at each other darkly, neither looking away until Harry reached for Draco’s hands, pulling his attention back to him. “I understand it’s a risk, Draco,” said Harry, looking at him seriously. “But it’s important for us to be ready for what is coming next. You told me to find another way, right?”

“Yes, but-" 

“This _is_ the way. If there’s anything I can do to make sure the others are prepared, then I have to do it." 

“Harry-" Draco paused and threw Sirius a dark look. “Do you mind?"

“Brat,” muttered Sirius as he walked into the cave again. 

Draco waited until he was gone before turning to Harry again. “Are you sure about this?"

Harry nodded firmly. “I’m sure."

“So stubborn,” mused Draco, reaching to cup his face with a hand. He sighed. “Stubborn git. I can only ask you to be cautious. You know the toad is going to be sniffing over your shoulder."

Harry blinked. “So it’s all good?" 

“It’s not all _good_ , but I understand.” Draco pursed his lips and dropped his hand. “I’m, however, not very pleased with you about all,” he waved his hand at the cave. “ _this_." 

“I know,” sighed Harry, the meeting had truly gone terrible. He held Draco’s hand and pulled him closer. “I’ll owe you one, alright?"

Draco hummed in consideration. "I suppose that will do." 

Harry beamed. “Are you coming to our meeting, then?"

“No,” said Draco, grinning when Harry frowned. “At least not now, there’s somewhere else I have to be." 

“Where?” asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. 

Draco hummed again. “I’m not sure yet, but I have a vague idea." He laughed at Harry’s confused expression, then leaning a bit closer. “Remember what I asked you, Harry." 

Harry grinned. “Which part?"

“Very charming,” deadpanned Draco, his face going a bit pink. “But, be serious." 

“I remember, but I wanted you to be there." 

Draco smiled. “I hope you can stand being away from me for a few hours. Perhaps I’ll catch up with you later." He paused for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. “Can I ask you something else?"

Harry perked up. “Yes, whatever you want."

“As painful as it may be, do not mention my name in your meeting,” said Draco slowly. He raised an eyebrow when Harry looked dismayed. “Not what you were expecting?"

“No,” admitted Harry, who would have preferred him to ask for another kiss. “I’ll do it anyway, but why?"

Draco shrugged. “Just in case." He let go of Harry and fixed his clothes. “I’m off, then." 

“I’ll walk you back,” offered Harry.

Draco shook his head. “You have a _visitor_ , Harry." He looked darkly at the entrance of the cave and raised his voice slightly. “A very _nosey_ one that should keep his _tail_ hidden from now on."

“I’ll let him know,” grinned Harry. “I’ll see you later, then." 

Draco smiled and leaned closer to Harry, placing a hand on his chest. He came so close Harry could feel his breath, making Harry’s own hitch, and cruelly paused just before their lips brushed. “I told you I wouldn’t kiss you in a dirty cave,” he whispered, so painfully close Harry felt the words. Then he took a step back, grinning at him maliciously. “Goodbye, Scarhead."

“We are _outside_ the cave,” protested Harry at his retreating back, only receiving a dismissive wave in answer. 

“Kinda bossy, isn’t he?” commented Sirius, and Harry turned to find him standing just by the entrance. “A bit prissy too." 

“I think he reacted pretty well, considering you _are_ a fugitive." Harry sighed and passed a hand through his hair. “You really shouldn’t have come here, Sirius." 

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Why did you agree, then? Just to prove me wrong?"

“Yes,” admitted Harry. “But I also wanted you to meet him, you know, as my godfather and all." 

Sirius laughed. “Well, well," he shoved Harry playfully, “Look at you, all smitten with a boy. James would have-" He paused, voice low when he spoke again. “He would have teased you a lot, Lily too." 

“You think so?” asked Harry, somehow avoiding the lump on his throat. 

“I know so,” said Sirius, squeezing Harry’s shoulder with a smile. “But Moony and I will do our best." He paused again, raising an eyebrow at him. “Talking about that, I should really tell Moony to talk to you. I believe I heard something about _kissing in a cave_?"

Harry flushed. “Shut up, you know that wasn’t the case." 

“Not that he would let you, of course, he seems _very_ stuck-up,” said Sirius, then humming. “Stuck-up, bossy, prim and proper, a lot like Narcissa." 

“You don’t like Narcissa,” said Harry, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t,” admitted Sirius. “But at least she’s not Bellatrix." 

\---

One look at the Hog’s Head interior was enough to understand why it wasn’t nearly as popular as the Three Broomsticks. The place was small, with a low ceiling and a floor so dirty it was hard to tell what it was made of. ' _Still better than Madam Puddifoot's,'_ thought Harry, eyeing a customer whose face was fully covered by bandages. He turned to look at Hermione, who was moving chairs to open space by a corner of the room. “How many people are we expecting, exactly?"

“Just a couple of people,” said Hermione, perhaps a bit too quickly. She raised an eyebrow at Harry. “Isn’t Mal-" 

“No,” cut in Harry quickly. “He said he didn’t want to come to our _very_ public meeting." 

Hermione frowned as if offended. “It’s not _public_. I chose this place because no one ever comes here-" She glanced carefully at the bartender, relieved when she found him quite far from them, attending a witch. “Professor Flitwick said we were allowed to come here, so it’s not against the rules either."

“It’s good he didn’t come,” mused Ron. “I doubt he would have liked it here, and I refuse to spend an hour listening to Mal-"

Harry hurried to shush him, earning himself two frowns. “He also requested that none of us mentions his name." 

“ _Why_?” asked Hermione. 

“Beats me,” admitted Harry. “But he must have a good reason." 

“Or he’s just insane,” proposed Ron, grinning when Harry frowned at him. “And you are a bit insane too, going with his whims like that."

“Talking about whims,” started Hermione casually. “How did the meeting go?"

Harry hummed. “Worse than expected, but not as bad as it could have gone, I think." The chiming of the very rusty bell of the door made him pause. “I’ll tell you later." 

Little by little, the chairs around the space began to fill. Starting with Neville, Dean, Lavender, Parvati and Padma, followed by Fay, Angelina, Katie and Alicia. Then walked in Ginny, who beamed after glancing around the room and rushed in with Michael Corner, Justin, Ernie and a Hufflepuff boy Harry didn’t know.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” said Cedric when he walked in with Cho, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein and a Ravenclaw girl with reddish-blonde hair. He extended a hand to Harry, with a kind smile. “How are you?"

Harry smiled. “Not bad at all, and you?"

“N.E.W.Ts have me by the neck,” grimaced Cedric, sharing a few more words with Harry before going to sit with the Ravenclaws. 

The last ones to arrive were the Creevey brothers, Fred, George, Lee Jordan and Luna, who wandered in with her usual dreamy look. If she hadn’t told Harry she planned to come, he would have wondered if she had gotten lost. 

“A couple of people,” repeated Harry, glaring at Hermione.

Hermione pursed her lips. “Well, the idea was very popular." She clapped, drawing the attention to herself. “Hello, uhm, we are here because-” She paused and took a deep breath, sounding more serious when she spoke again, “You all know why we are here. We are here because we need to learn Defense." 

“And from a professor that isn’t rubbish,” added Ron. 

“Precisely,” said Hermione. “We need to learn to defend ourselves, and not just in theory- Not just because of the O.W.Ls, but also because we need to be ready, because,” she paused, looking a bit nervous. “Because _Voldemort_ is back."

The reaction was instant. Some present gasped, others exchanged nervous glances between them, and everyone seemed more engaged.

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who is back?” asked the unnamed Hufflepuff boy suddenly. He jerked his head at Harry rudely. “You only have _his_ word, and he hasn’t even explained-" 

“I believe Harry, Zacharias,” cut in Cedric calmly, holding the other student’s glare. “I saw him disappear after touching the Cup. And even if I hadn’t, I know he has nothing to gain from this." 

“And Dumbledore believes him,” pointed Hermine. 

Zacharias crossed his arms over his chest, muttering, “I was just asking." 

\---

They walked out of the Hog’s Head an hour later, with a smiling Hermione and a list signed by the everyone that had shown up, including Zacharias Smith.

“Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, but no Slytherins,” mused Harry as they walked. “Shouldn’t we have invited some of them?"

Hermione pursed her lips. “I’m not sure, Harry. We don’t know if we can trust them, not yet." 

“But we can trust Smith?"

“He already signed,” said Hermione with a little smile. “So there’s nothing to worry about." 

_‘What is that supposed to mean?’_ meant to ask Harry, but at that moment he caught view of Draco standing just by the stone wall and talking with Parkinson and Luna. 

“Since when are they friends?” asked Hermione, following Harry’s line of sight.

Ron shrugged. “I’ve stopped questioning things at this point." 

They approached the group, finding Draco looking at Luna with a confused expression as the girl talked about something. “And these,” was Draco slowly saying, “ _Heliopaths_ , you say Fudge has an army of them?"

Luna nodded. “Precisely, which is why I believe it’s good we are learning Defense." 

Draco eyed Parkinson carefully. “Right, and what are _Heliopaths_ exactly?"

“Again with this,” muttered Hermione, calling the attention of the group. “They are not real, Malfoy." 

“Oh, but they are,” said Luna solemnly, not startled by Hermione’s sudden interruption. 

“Do you have any proof they do?"

“Do you have any proof they _don’t_?” retorted Parkinson, holding Hermione’s surprised gaze. “Do you, Granger?"

Hermione frowned. “I don’t need-" 

“Oh, so you don’t,” cut in Parkinson. “Yet you seem so sure of yourself. A bit arrogant if you ask me."

“And narrow-minded,” added Luna, shaking her head sadly. “Must be the Wrackspurts." 

Parkinson sneered. “I reckon it’s her hair." 

“Pansy,” warned Draco, but there was a slight tremble to his voice that made it clear he was trying not to laugh. 

Parkinson rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes. We were just leaving anyway." She offered her arm to Luna, who accepted it happily. “Come on, we don’t want to catch Granger’s Wrackspurts." 

They left together, leaving behind a very perplexed Hermione, who quickly glared at Ron when he started snickering. “Be quiet, Ronald. You know she’s talking nonsense,” she said, then turning to look at Draco. “You should know it too." 

Draco hummed. “I don’t know, Granger. If I asked you to bring me evidence that these, uh..." 

“Heliopaths,” provided Harry.

“Thank you, love,” said Draco, placing a hand on his shoulder. “That _Heliopaths_ do not exist, could you do it?"

Hermione frowned, “It’s ridiculous to gather evidence to prove something _doesn’t_ exist. One has to gather evidence to prove something _does_ exist." 

“I see,” said Draco sadly. “So you can’t." 

“But, but-” stammered Hermione, but then her mind seemed to catch up and she sent Draco an accusing look. “You are just trying to bother me, aren’t you?"

Draco turned to look at Harry. “How did your meeting go?"

“I’d say it went well,” answered Harry, ignoring Hermione’s huff of indignation. “Just had a bit of a problem with Zacharias Smith at the start." 

“Smith?” asked Draco, tilting his head. “I don’t know many Hufflepuffs, but isn’t he on the Quidditch team?"

“Yes, that’s him,” said Harry.

“I see."

“You see, I don’t like when people say that,” said Ron. “It’s sketchy. Just for your information, Smith went really quiet after Diggory intervened. He even signed the list." 

Draco frowned. “List?"

“A list of the names of all the attendees,” said Hermione carefully. 

“All the attendees of your _secret_ meeting.” Draco raised a judging eyebrow. “Not a very _smart_ move, considering it’s supposed to be a secret." 

Hermione raised her chin. “Actually, it’s to assure it remains a secret." 

“Ah, there’s a trick,” said Draco, an amused grin growing on his lips. “Do tell, Granger." 

“It's just a small jinx that will let us know if someone snitches-" 

“Did you hex it?” asked Ron, eyes wide. “Hermione! You didn’t say anything about that." 

“I warned them that signing meant they weren’t going to tell,” said Hermione. “If they abide by their word, nothing will happen to them." 

“What’s going to happen to them?” asked Harry.

“Hopefully something _fun_ ,” said Draco. 

Hermione grinned. “Let’s just say it will make Eloise Midgen’s acne look like a couple of cute freckles." 

“Messing with someone’s face? That’s just _vicious,_ ” mused Draco, sounding slightly impressed. 

Harry turned to look at him. “Are you going to sign?"

“He should,” said Ron slowly. “He knows an awful lot." 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I obviously don’t plan on telling, but I think it’s better if I don’t sign." 

Hermione crossed her arms. “And why is that?” 

“Reasons, Granger,” answered Draco, then glancing at Harry. “Unless Harry requests me to sign, I don’t plan to do so." 

Harry studied him carefully before smiling. “No, it’s fine." 

“It’s settled, then,” grinned Draco, holding Harry’s hand and tugging at him to walk. “Now, tell me more. Who else was there?"

“Just a couple of people,” muttered Hermione, clearly not pleased.

Ron whistled. “You mean a lot of people, some I didn’t even know." 

“Well, they passed the word,” explained Hermione. “Zacharias overheard me talking with Ernie and Hannah, Cho told Cedric, and Michael Corner and his friends only came because he is dating Ginny-" 

“He is what?!” exclaimed Ron, halting on his steps. “I didn’t know." 

“Clearly,” mused Draco, making Harry laugh. 

“Since when?” pressed Ron.

Hermione hummed. “They met at the Yule Ball and got together by the end of the year, I believe." 

Ron frowned. “Which one was he?"

“Dark hair, I’d bet,” whispered Draco, just as Hermione said, “The dark one." 

Harry blinked. “Do you know him?"

“No, I don’t,” said Draco, grinning at Harry’s confusion. “But nevermind that, love, there’s something else I need to tell you." As Ron and Hermione bickered about Michael Corner, Draco locked arms with Harry and leaned closer, whispering as they walked. “And there’s a _little_ favour I need to ask you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit late, but it's still Thursday here! Hehe. Hope you liked the chapter! I love comments so please leave some! Even if it's just to say hi!! I'll see you next update!


	11. October 9, Monday: Plotting

The Gryffindors had woken up to a menacing sign on the common room notice board, just next to the posters looking for testers that Fred and George had hanged. The Education Decree 24 not only disbanded all existing groups but also banned those without approval under the threat of expulsion. 

“A bit of a coincidence, ain’t it?” said Ron as they walked towards the Great Hall. 

Harry hummed. “Yeah." 

“Someone must have blabbed,” continued Ron, looking around in suspicion. “Hermione, what are we looking for? Acne?"

Hermione pursed her lips. “Or maybe nothing at all." 

“Didn’t you say that we would know if someone talked?” asked Ron.

“ _If_ they signed, of course," said Hermione slyly, and the implication made Harry turn towards her with a frown. 

“I don’t think I like what you are suggesting," he said. 

“It’s just a possibility we have to consider, Harry,” replied Hermione seriously. “I mean, doesn’t it bother you that he didn’t sign?"

“It would have bothered him more if I did,” drawled a posh voice behind them that made Harry drop his frown. He turned around just as Draco caught up with them, taking Harry's side as they walked. “You see, Harry is quite fond of my face as it is. Isn’t that right, love?"

“I am,” admitted Harry, grinning at him. “Quite a wonderful face."

Ron groaned. “Stop flirting for a second. Malfoy, did you-?"

“Did I tell on your _very_ public meeting?” Ron nodded and Draco tilted his head to the side, looking like the picture of someone in deep thought. “I wonder if I did," he mused after a while. 

“It’s a ‘Yes or No’ question, Malfoy," said Ron.

Draco hummed in consideration before turning towards Harry with a grin. “I’ll see you at Potions." 

“See you,” said Harry, watching him walk away gracefully. He then turned to his friends, snorting when he found them frowning. “You do know he is just messing with you, right?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “How can you be so sure?"

“For starters, he is my boyfriend,“ pointed Harry. “And the rest is private." 

\---

The hall outside of Snape’s classroom was lined with students, a bit unusual since the doors were usually open before class. Draco was talking with Crabbe and Goyle, the three of them visibly satisfied. They stopped their conversation when Harry, Ron and Hermione approached. 

“Are you alright?” asked Draco after studying Harry’s tired face.

“Do you think he knows?” said Goyle to Crabbe, only receiving a shrug in answer. 

Ron frowned at that. “Know what?"

“That doesn’t matter,” said Draco, still looking at Harry with concern. “What happened?"

“It’s Hedwig,” said Harry. “She’s been attacked." 

Draco’s eyes widened slightly. “ _Attacked_? Is she alright?

“Yeah, Grubbly-Plank says she will be fine.” 

“That’s good.” Draco scrunched his nose. “That makes it clear, doesn’t it?"

Harry grimaced. “Quite." 

“What are you talking about? asked Hermione, just as the door to the classroom was opened by Snape.

“He looks a bit angry, doesn’t he?” said Crabbe as the professor called them in.

Ron raised an eyebrow. “He looks the same as ever." 

“No, Vincent is right,” said Draco. He turned to look at Harry. “Today we are finishing the Strengthening Solution. Do _not_ forget to add the salamander blood, alright?"

“Yes, sir,” jabbed Harry. 

Ron blinked. “Why are you telling him that now?"

“You will see, Weasley.” With those parting words, Draco turned to walk inside the room, Crabbe and Goyle on tail. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed and the latter two couldn't help but looked surprised when the Slytherins went to sit with Parkinson and Zabini. 

“We are not sitting together today?” asked Hermione when Harry directed them to their usual table, at the other side of the room. It was a valid question, since Draco and two of his friends usually joined them, to Snape's growing confusion.

Harry shook his head and discreetly pointed towards a corner of the class, where a dreaded figure sat in the darkness, pink clipboard on her pink-clad knees. 

“You will notice,” said Snape, his tone perhaps a bit more bitter than usual, “that we have a guest with us today." 

During the first half-hour of the class, Umbridge did nothing but take notes on her clipboard, posing no problem for Harry. But once she stood up to approach Snape and pester him, it became increasingly difficult to pay attention to the potion.

 _‘Salamander blood, salamander blood’_ repeated Harry on his head, but he kept stealing glances at the conversation happening just a few meters away. 

“How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?” asked Umbridge. 

“Fourteen years,” answered Snape. His voice was bored but knowing the man, it was clear he was hating her presence. 

_‘Salamander blood,’_ thought Harry, finally pouring the vial into his cauldron. Then he paused. _‘Now what?’_

“You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?” continued Umbridge. 

“Yes." 

“But you were unsuccessful?"

Snape clenched his jaw. “Obviously." 

Ron snorted, immediately trying to hide it as a cough, but Snape noticed and looked towards their table. Harry saw him frown, eyes travelling to the other corner of the room, where Umbridge was now talking with Parkinson, and then back to them, narrowing in suspicion when they met Harry’s. 

Harry looked down at his cauldron, finding that instead of being turquoise, his potion had turned grey and had the distinctive smell of burned rubber. He wasn’t surprised when Snape vanished it and told him to write an extra essay. 

\---

After lunch, Harry walked into the library and towards a specific section, only pausing to fold and pocket the map. The library was usually empty at that time, most of the students hanging out in the grounds before classes started. He found Draco almost near the back of the library, where the books were dustier and the tables emptier, leaning against a shelf as he skimmed through a book with a focused expression.

“Hi,” greeted Harry, effectively startling the other. 

“Merlin, Harry!” exclaimed Draco. He closed his book and studied Harry carefully for a few moments. “You always find me rather quickly." 

Harry smiled. “What can I say? You are very eye-catching." 

“Flattery,” mused Draco, raising an eyebrow. “You should try that with Snape, perhaps he would stop giving you extra homework." 

“And he would start giving me detention."

“Then you should try not burning your cauldron."

“It was Umbridge’s fault."

“When isn’t it?” said Draco, leaving the book on the table next to him and looking at Harry with a serious expression. “So, what do we know?"

“That she has me under surveillance,” muttered Harry, still angry about Hedwig. “But Hermione says no one was jinxed, so whoever told her about our meeting wasn’t a student." 

Draco pursed his lips. “Could have been someone from _outside_ the school, but that’s not really important. The matter is that you have to be more careful whenever you go out, and that means no more _dogs_." 

“I know,” sighed Harry, he couldn’t risk Sirius being caught. An idea crossed his mind. “Draco, what about _inside_ the school? Do you think she has someone spying on me?"

“So smart.” Draco smiled at him. “That’s correct, there _is_ someone spying on you inside Hogwarts."

Harry blinked. “Who?"

“You are looking at him." 

“You?"

“Along with some other members of my House. Umbridge has given us the mission of finding the _little army_ she is convinced you have" 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Well, then I’m in trouble, aren’t I?"

“Quite the opposite.” Draco placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, his smile turning into a mischievous grin.“Think about it, I can assure she knows nothing about what you and your little band are up to." 

Harry grinned back. “That sounds rather good."

“ _Precisely_. But save your flattery for later, I assume you are going to be needing help with your essay." 

“I do, but I’ve got Quidditch today." 

Draco seemed surprised by that. “Did she give the _Gryffindor_ team permission too?"

“I hope so, Angelina told me to not cause much trouble because she was going to ask her-” Harry frowned. “Wait, she already gave it to Slytherin?"

“Of course she did,” drawled Draco, sounding quite pleased. He then shrugged. “That’s fine, I’ll help you tomorrow." 

“ _Or,_ you could help me now." 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Don't you have Divination?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "I could skive off."

"Skiving off classes, Harry?" said Draco, cracking a smile. "Was Myrtle right about you being a bad influence?"

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m skiving off a class to do homework for another, how is that being a bad influence?"

“Because you want me to skive off too,” pointed Draco. “Which is _not_ going to happen." 

“I’ll owe you one?"

Draco frowned. “I’m not skiving off Transfiguration to help you, Potter." 

“Alright, alright,” sighed Harry. “I’ll just skive off alone." 

“You are not skiving off either,” said Draco severely. “Have you forgotten I’m a Perfect?"

“Oh, are you going to deduct points?” laughed Harry, sobering up when Draco didn’t say anything. “Wait, really?"

“ _Really_ ,” said Draco, giving him a light shove. “So on you go, to class with the madwoman." 

Harry sighed. “Fine, give me a kiss and I’ll go." 

Draco blinked at him, then glancing around the section of the library they were in. “Here? What if someone comes?"

“To the library after lunch? I don’t think so,” said Harry, stepping closer to him. “Come on." 

“What if Pince comes?” asked Draco, taking a step back until he hit the shelf. “She would kill us." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “ _Scared_ , Draco?"

It worked like a charm.

“I’m not _scared_ ,” huffed Draco. He glanced around one more time before tugging Harry closer. “Just one, alright?” he whispered, cupping his face with a hand. “And then you go." Once Harry nodded, Draco closed the distance, the soft brush of his lips on Harry’s hesitant, slow and gone too quickly.

 _'Not enough,'_ thought Harry, chasing the other's lips as they retreated and closing the distance again, catching them as they opened in surprise. Placing a hand on the shelf behind Draco, Harry leaned closer and parted his lips, feeling his head go light with the warm breath the other let out. The hands on his shoulders loosened their grip as the kiss deepened, a small pleased sound leaving the other. Harry brought him closer, marvelling at how his waist seemed to fit perfectly under his hand, losing himself to the heat of his mouth and only breaking apart when the lack of air was too much.

"That was one," whispered Harry, basking in the dazed expression the other had and the shiny gloss over his lips. Draco only blinked at him, hands resting on Harry’s shoulders and chest rising and falling as he leaned against the shelf. Harry smiled. "Well, I'll go now." 

A hand held him by the front of his robes, stopping him and surprising both of them.

Harry raised an eyebrow, trying to mask how triumphant he felt, "Yes?"

"Just," whispered Draco, face growing redder as he tugged him close. "Just one more." 

\---

Despite Harry’s silence, Umbridge hadn’t given the Gryffindor Quidditch team permission yet, which meant practice that night was cancelled and that Harry had missed a chance to see Draco for nothing.

“Damn _toad_ ,” muttered Harry, frowning at his Potions essay. 

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Why are you doing that now? Isn’t he going to help you tomorrow?"

“Yeah,” said Harry, not wanting to tell Ron what he’d rather do with that time. “Hermione, what was the correct weight of Griffith claw? Ten or- You _could_ tell them something, you know." 

Hermione stopped glaring at the twins, who were in the middle of a demonstration of one of their Skiving Snackboxes, and let out an exasperated sigh. “I can’t, there’s nothing that says they can’t test them on themselves,” she scrunched her nose as George vomited on a bucket again. “And nothing to stop the others from buying them, unless I can prove it’s dangerous." 

“But it’s rather impressive, isn’t it?” said Harry, as they watched Fred and Lee collect gold from the crowd. “They really know their stuff." 

“Only know flashy things that got no real use for anybody,” muttered Hermione. 

“No real use? They already got 26 galleons, Hermione,” said Ron, then grinning. “Plus, I think Harry-." 

Harry kicked him. “So, Hermione, Griffith claw?"

By the time the twins and the crowd disappeared, Ron was dozing on the couch and Harry had managed to finish his essay. As he rolled up the parchment, Ron suddenly sat straight, looking at the fireplace, “Sirius!"

“Hi,” grinned the man as the three of them knelt before the fireplace. “How are things?"

Harry scrunched his nose. “The Ministry’s new Decree bans groups, so that includes the Quidditch team and-" 

“Your little Defense group,” finished Sirius, startling the other two. “By the way, Ron, your mother says you are not allowed to take part in any _illegal Defense group_." 

Ron gaped, his face going a bit pale. “How did she know?" he whispered.

“Did you tell her?” asked Harry. “Didn’t peg you as a snitch." 

Sirius barked a laugh. “It was Mundungus the one who overhead you, I didn't say a word." He paused, looking a bit serious. “Which reminds me, don’t tell anyone that I knew and didn't stop you, alright? I’m already in trouble for my little escapade." 

“But we didn’t see Mundungus,” mumbled Hermione, looking a bit sullen. 

“He was disguised as a witch,” grinned Sirius. “You really should be more careful with your secret meetings. I mean, the Hog’s Head? Even my _dear_ cousin knew it would go wrong." 

Harry frowned. “Funny how you didn’t say anything about the place before."

“By the way,” said Ron with a grin. “How was _that_ meeting? Harry only told us it was terrible." 

Sirius grimaced. “What can I say? I definitely don’t see him running around with you and your illegal group, for starters." 

“He is,” said Harry defensively.

Hermione blinked. “He is?"

“Really?” asked Sirius sceptically. “He _really_ doesn’t look the type to go around getting in trouble, like you three." 

“Well, I don’t know,” shrugged Ron. “Today he was quite late for Transfiguration." 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Ron, we don’t share Transfiguration with him." 

“No, but,” said Ron, looking at Harry’s warning glare and grinning. “But I _do_ share Divination with Harry, and _he_ arrived late." 

“Oh, did he?” asked Sirius, looking at Harry with amusement.

Ron nodded. “Oh, yes, and looking quite smug, might I add." 

“Thanks, Ron,” muttered Harry as Sirius howled.

“Harry? Are you serious?” laughed the man. “I’m telling Moony you are skiving classes to-" 

“Then I’ll tell him you knew about our Defense group." 

Sirius dropped his smile. “You wouldn’t." 

Harry shrugged. “I would." 

Sirius pursed his lips, then smirking mischievously. “Well, then I-" He broke off suddenly, looking at the wall of the fireplace in alarm and vanishing just before a hand appeared, startling the three of them into stepping away. 

They watched from the stairs how the stubbly hand of Umbridge kept searching around, as if sure there had been something there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter! I'll be reading your comments, and I'll see you on Thursday!


	12. October 11, Wednesday: (Rather) Impressive

The Room of Requirement was spacious and well lit, with a high-ceiling from which a chandelier hung, dark and elegant like the room itself. The word on the meeting place had been passed around during the day, and by 8, every student that had gone to the Hog’s Head was present and listening to Harry.

Because of that, when the door was knocked once again, everyone froze and looked at the Golden Trio in bewilderment. Hermione only sighed. "They are late." 

"Who is late?" Ginny frowned in confusion. "Everyone is here." 

Ron hummed. "Not everyone." 

Harry rolled his eyes and walked to the door, checking the map just in case before opening it and letting the four students standing outside in. “You are late." 

“Fashionably so,” said Zabini with a wide grin, that stretched as the people around the group gasped in horror. He was probably enjoying the attention, even if it wasn't friendly at all. 

Parkinson looked around the room. “Not a bad place, Potter," she mused, giving him an approving nod. 

“A bit weird, though.” Goyle blinked at the staring students. “What’s their problem?"

Crabbe shrugged. “I reckon they are just dumb." 

There was a long silence as Harry locked the door and the group of Slytherins stopped before the rest of students, meeting their stares with amused expressions. Harry came to stand between the two sides and sighed. “Right, as I was saying-" 

Unsurprisingly, everyone except the newcomers broke into loud protests.

“What are _they_ doing here?!” demanded Fred.

Dean groaned. “Did we really get caught in our first meeting?"

"I told you we should have told them earlier," muttered Hermione.

Harry shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if they were coming." 

“Well, they can’t stay!” said Zacharias, and his claim was followed by yells of approval. 

"Why not?" came a dreamy voice. Everyone turned towards Luna, that stood near the front of the group with her usual half-gone smile. "I thought this club was for anyone that wanted to learn."

Lee scrunched his nose as if in disgust. "Yeah, but Slytherins?"

"They will sell us out," mumbled Ernie.

Goyle chuckled, loud and deep like his voice. "That's just _dumb_."

"I told you," said Crabbe triumphantly.

Ernie's face went red, and he opened and closed his mouth many times before blurting, "Look who's talking."

It seemed as if the Room had gone several times colder, coming from the Slytherin side. Crabbe, Zabini and Parkinson glared daggers at Ernie until he took a step back, but Goyle only frowned. "What does that mean?" he asked, sounding genuinely lost.

"Don't mind him, Greg," said Zabini smoothly, giving the boy a pat on the shoulder, while gesturing with his other hand towards Ernie. "It's clear that…" He paused, frowned at Ernie for a moment and then turned towards Parkinson. "Do you know who he is?" he asked in a serious tone.

Parkinson shrugged, the picture of indifference. "No idea," she answered. 

"You know who I am!" protested Ernie, face even redder as he pointed at the badge on the front of his robes. "I'm a Prefect too!"

"Was it Smith?" tried Parkinson, her act so convincing Harry was starting to believe it wasn't one. When Ernie scowled, the girl sighed. "That's the only one I know. Apart from Diggory, of course," she added, glancing towards the older Hufflepuff in question. 

Zacharias, who had perked up when Parkinson first mentioned his name, puffed his chest and proclaimed, "No, that's me. I'm Zacharias Smith." At that, the Slytherins exchanged a quick look. 

"Ah, good to know," said Crabbe. 

"What does that mean?"

Ron cut in, "We are running out of time." He looked at the four Slytherins. "Is this all of you?" he asked, glancing towards Harry curiously. 

Zabini raised an eyebrow. “Were you expecting the entire house here?"

"Merlin, no," said Ron. "Just one more snake." 

Parkinson rolled her eyes. "No, Weasley. It will be just the four of us."

"Thank Godric," muttered Ginny, sounding quite relieved. 

Taking that as the end of the discussion, and because they were running late, Harry clapped his hands to attract the attention of the Room. "Right," he said once all eyes were on him again. "Let's get started right away. We don't have much time." 

"Wait, they are staying?!" asked Dean.

"Obviously," said Parkinson, exchanging an exasperated look with her friends.

Dean blinked. "But-" 

“I’m fine with it." The group turned towards the one that had said that, and Fay, in her usual bravery, only gave them a shrug. “Everyone should be welcome," she said, and Lavender and Parvati raised an eyebrow at her, then turning to look at Zabini, who smiled at them.

Parvati looked away. "Well, if she's alright with it," she mumbled, while Lavender just nodded. 

“I see no problem either,” said Luna cheerily. “The more the merrier, right?”

Neville also nodded. "I think it's fine," he said, and soon other students were agreeing, even if not fully convinced by the idea. 

"Wait!" Cedric smiled apologetically when they looked at him. "I have no problem either," he assured. "But I believe that they should sign as we all did. Just as a formality."

Hermione immediately turned to give Harry a serious look. "That is true, they should sign," she said, the words 'Unlike someone' unsaid but still understood by Harry, who turned towards the Slytherins. 

"Well?"

The four students seemed to share a telepathic conversation via a single look, and after a few moments and short nods, Zabini stepped forward, steps sure and chin raised so elegantly Harry was expecting him to knight someone.

"We will sign," he declared regally as if expecting the cheering of the villagers. He placed a hand on his chest and smiled charmingly. "As a show of good faith."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "It's not really an option." 

Harry hummed, then clapping to attract the attention of the group once again. "Alright, while we sort this out I want everyone to pair-up. We are going to start with the basics, the Disarming Charm, so-" 

Zacharias let out a groan, and Harry felt as if cursing him. The Hufflepuff turned up his nose disdainfully. “I doubt _Expelliarmus_ would be useful against-" 

“I’ve used it,” cut in Harry impatiently. One glance at the clock told them they were losing time he didn't have. He started gesturing towards the groups to get a move on. "So just get to it."

Zabini whistled. "Someone is in a rush," he said knowingly.

"Quiet," said Harry, leading them towards a corner of the room. Once there, Hermione took out the parchment and a quill and placed both on a small table that appeared out of nowhere.

"If you sign this," Hermione's expression and voice were all business, "You are promising not to betray us."

"That's quite vague, isn't it?" commented Zabini, already signing his name on the parchment with an elegant scrawl. Satisfied with his work, he gave Parkinson the quill.

Parkinson gave him a sharp grin. "Careful, Blaise, you don't want to risk your only redeemable feature," she said before leaning over the parchment. 

"No, I don't," said Zabini gravely. He then threw Harry and the shocked Hermione a wink. "Thankfully, I'm good at keeping secrets."

Hermione frowned at Harry. "You told them?"

"Draco did," said Crabbe, so busy in the process of signing his name that he didn't take in the surprised expression of Ron and Hermione. "Said we didn't have to sign if we didn't want to," he added. 

Ron let out a startled laugh. "Oh, did he?" He turned towards Harry with an amused smile. "Are you giving them preferential treatment, Harry?"

"No," said Harry.

"Yes," said the Slytherins. 

"Just a bit," conceded Harry, He smiled at his friends. "It will be fine, I'm sure they will behave." 

Goyle gave Harry the quill. "Can I try jinxing Weasley now?"

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry in disbelief.

Harry shrugged. "It will be fine." 

\---

“Bugger off,” snapped Parkinson when Harry told her to correct her posture, making Luna giggle when she complied anyway. There was a noticeable improvement among the students as time went on, Neville loudly celebrating when he managed to disarm Ron, and Crabbe and Goyle laughing every time they disarmed the other. 

Harry was just in the middle of helping Colin when he noticed the time, quickly blowing the whistle he had summoned to catch everyone’s attention. “We are doing pretty good,” he said when everyone fell quiet. “But we are out of time for today, so let’s leave it here. Same time next week?"

“Sooner!” yelled Dean. 

Angelina shook her head. “Quidditch season is starting soon," she said, glancing at the Slytherins because their first match would be against them. 

“Let’s say next Wednesday at the same time, then,” cut in Harry before another argument about the time would start. He glanced at the clock again. “We can decide on the next meetings there." As everyone left the room in small groups, Harry kept checking the map every time to see if someone was outside, then glancing at the clock.

"I think that went well," said Hermione happily and Harry nodded, eyes on the map as the last group left. He watched the fours spots making their way towards the Dungeons. 

"Despite the number of Slytherins, yes," said Ron as they went to stand by the door, waiting until it was time for them to leave. He turned towards Harry. "Doesn't it bother you that Malfoy didn't come?"

Harry hummed. "Not really." 

"Really?" asked Hermione sceptically. 

"Yeah." 

"What are you staring at the map for?" asked Ron, trying to take a peek over his shoulder. "Is it safe to go out now?"

"Yes," said Harry, eyes tracing the parchment. "You should be able to get to the Tower without any problem." 

" _Us_?" repeated Hermione.

"You," said Harry, grinning when the one spot he had been looking at finally rounded the corner. He opened the door, smiling at the newcomer as the folded the map, the small spot named _Draco Malfoy_ disappearing with the rest of the castle.

Draco's walked in as if the others were invisible, silver eyes too interested in the Room. “This is rather impressive, Scarhead,” he mused, sounding like he meant it.

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Someone is a bit late." 

“I’m actually just in time,” said Draco, still glancing around the Room until noticing a corner. He pointed at it. “Is that the famous list?"

Hermione blinked. “Yes, but you shouldn’t-” she frowned when he walked away “-see it." 

Harry laughed. “He isn’t going to tell, Hermione," he said, but Hermione didn't seem amused at all. 

“Aren’t you giving him too many liberties?” she asked, then starting to count with her fingers, “He doesn’t sign, his friends don’t have to sign-" 

“They did sign." 

“Just because they felt like it,” protested Hermione, gesturing wildly. “And now you are giving him, what, private classes instead of learning with the rest of us?"

“He was busy." 

“He could come next time then,” pointed out Ron. He crossed his arms and shook his head. Unlike Hermione, he seemed terribly amused. “Unless this is less about time, and more about you giving in to his every whim."

Harry frowned “I offered." Ron and Hermione looked at him in disbelief, and he sighed. “It’s kind of my fault that he can’t come to the meetings,” he explained, turning his gaze away to look at Draco as he studied the list. “But he does need to practise Defense like everyone else, for the exams and all that. I thought I could help him now since he is always helping me." 

When he looked back at his friends, Hermione wasn't angry anymore. She looked as amused as Ron, and grinned as she said, “So now you are trying to _coddle_ him?"

Harry regretted speaking. “No." 

Ron chuckled. “He really doesn’t need any more spoiling, Harry." 

“Sod off, Ron." 

The ginger raised his hands. “Alright, alright. Just promise me something." He looked at Harry seriously, taking a deep breath before continuing, voice grave, “If I _ever_ get as whipped as you are, you have to kill me." 

“Oh, shut up,” said Harry. He started pushing his laughing friends towards the exit. “Now leave, will you?"

“Someone is in a rush,” said Hermione.

“It’s late,” replied Harry, checking the map once again. “Filch is on the first floor, so you shouldn’t have an issue." 

“Yeah, yeah,” said Ron. “See you, Harry." 

“Don’t be late,” added Hermione. Then she paused and looked at Harry with a slight frown. He didn’t like the way she looked uncomfortable. “Harry, I think you should talk to Lupin-" 

The doors shut close quickly, and Harry didn’t know if it had been him or the Room itself, but he was quite grateful. Feeling suddenly aware of the empty room, he gave himself some time to breathe and calm his heart before going to stand next to Draco.

“You have quite a collection, Harry,” commented Draco easily as he examined the parchment, calm and perfectly unaware of Hermione's words. “There are some names here I don’t know." 

“Yeah, me neither,” said Harry, relieved by the subject.

Draco hummed and turned to look at him. "So, what did you do today in your little class?"

"Disarming," said Harry, grinning when Draco scrunched his nose in distaste. "It's useful." 

Draco pursed his lips. "If you say so." 

Now that there was no need to share the space with other pairs, Harry and Draco could take the entire centre, standing on opposite sides of the duelling mat the Room happily provided. Harry laughed, "This brings back memories." 

Draco seemed to share his idea because he raised his wand towards his face. "Scared, Harry?" he asked.

"Yeah, scared of hurting you." 

"With a disarming spell?" Draco huffed. " _Please_."

"If you get it quickly we can start with something else."

Draco grinned. "You are on, Potter."

\---

The blond’s carefree mood dissipated when Harry kept disarming him rather easily again and again.

"I was just distracted," muttered Draco after his wand went flying once again.

Harry looked at him in consideration, one hand rising to scratch his chin. "No, I think it's the stance." 

Predictably, Draco immediately retorted, "There's nothing wrong with my stance." 

"Then it's you being slow?" said Harry, smiling when Draco, also predictably, huffed. "Didn't think so. I need to watch you do it, let's see…" Draco jumped when a rather creepy looking dummy wheeled closer, a wand on its hand already raised in preparation. "It's just the Room," explained Harry, trying to hide his amusement. 

The blond scowled at him and got closer to study the dummy, eyes tracing the dark cape and dark mask that was terribly familiar for Harry now that he thought about it. "A Dark Wizard," said Draco, confirming his thoughts. The blond glanced at Harry, then looking away. "It's a curious room, isn't it?" 

The air felt a bit heavier, and Harry stepped closer. "We don't have to use it," he said carefully. 

"Nonsense," said Draco immediately, watching as the dummy wheeled back to the proper distance for duelling. "It's just a doll."

"Draco." 

Draco ignored him and raised his arm, pointing at the doll with his wand. "Is this alright, then?"

Taking it as a cue to drop the subject, Harry approached the blond, letting his knowledge of Defense take charge. He hummed in consideration, moving Draco's arm an inch to the left. "Let's see you try." 

" _Expelliarmus_."

The wand of the dummy flew through the air, and Harry walked over to gather it and put it back in place. "That was good," he said, returning to Draco. "But you are losing speed with the arm movement. It's too, uhm..." Harry fumbled for a word. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Broad?"

"No, complex...maybe? I don't know." Harry gestured at him. "Go back to the stance." 

"Bossy, bossy."

Harry studied him. Draco's stance was as aristocratic as him, which was very nice to look at but probably hard to achieve. Duelling required simplicity. Without really thinking, Harry walked around him, fixing what he could. "Relax your shoulders," he said, placing a hand on his back to correct the posture and using the other to gently raise his arm a bit. "Try again." 

" _Expelliarmus_." 

It was faster this time, the spell hitting the dummy even before it was fully uttered, the wand snatched away by an invisible force. Harry turned to Draco with a grin, finding the blond looking at him sternly. "Do you teach everyone like this?" Harry looked down at his hand, still resting on Draco's back. Now that he was aware of it, the softness of the shirt was rather captivating. "Because if you do, we are going to have a problem, Potter."

"I don't," said Harry, grinning at him. "Sorry." 

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You say that, but your hand hasn't moved." 

Harry hummed. "Does it bother you?"

"Handsy," mused Draco, looking a bit flustered. "I'm trying to learn, you know."

"And I'm just helping you," said Harry, watching how the wand returned to the dummy. He gave Draco's back a light pat. "Go on." 

Instead of casting the spell, Draco turned around, placing his left hand on Harry's shoulder and leaning in to kiss him. Draco, Harry came to discover, was a quick learner. His kisses remained sweet and soft, but after the library, he had stopped rushing. Using the hand on his back, Harry pressed him close, rewarded with a pleased sigh that felt like music through his parted lips.

But Draco was also cruel and broke the kiss with a grin way before they ran out of air. "I'm trying to learn." 

"You are already great," mumbled Harry, refusing to let go and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "No more learning."

Draco laughed. "Harry!"

Harry looked at him, taking in his sparkling eyes and how they crinkled at the corners as he laughed softly, and how they softened as he held Harry's gaze. Feeling as if his chest could burst in any second, Harry smiled at him. "Fancy a duel?"

"It's a bit late for that." Draco looked up at the clock. "Quite late, actually. Let's leave it for the next time." 

"Scared?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I wasn't scared then and I'm not scared now." He paused, humming in consideration before continuing, "But I do have to admit that telling the snake to attack that Hufflepuff was a bit menacing of you." 

Harry frowned. "I told it to leave him alone."

"If you say so," grinned Draco. "I can only take your word for it." He paused again, looking a bit troubled. 

"I _really_ didn't tell it to attack," insisted Harry. 

"I know," sighed Draco, pursing his lips. "It's just that speaking parsel is _extremely_ rare, and I remember feeling _very_ jealous of you." Harry only looked at him, wondering if he should tell him that it wasn’t that great. Snakes never have much to say. "But right now I just find it _fascinating_ ," continued Draco, smiling at him. "You are rather impressive, Harry."

There was a moment of silence as Harry decided between dismissing the compliment because speaking parsel hadn’t been something he had worked for, or asking Draco to call him impressive again because he liked the way he said it. “Flattery,” he resolved, grinning when Draco rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm late, but it's still Thursday here! Work and uni are catching up with me haha (damn). Anyways, I hope you liked the new chapter! Please leave a comment, I love hearing your thoughts! I'll see you on Monday!


	13. November 4, Saturday: Seekers Quarrel

The morning of the first match of Quidditch season was cold. Not enough for it to snow, thankfully, but definitely enough for Harry to see his breath as he and Ron walked down the grounds to meet the team. He glanced at his friend, worried about how pale he looked. Due to his nervousness, Ron had barely touched his breakfast, but judging from his almost green complexion, it was probably for the best that his stomach wasn't that full. 

“You are going to do fine, Ron,” tried Harry again. “Just relax." 

Ron shook his head, muttering, “Terrible. It’s going to be terrible." 

The team was already inside the changing rooms, listening to Angelina as she gave the last instructions. Fred and George shared a look with Harry when Ron kept putting on his uniform backwards, then approaching his brother to pat his back. “They have new beaters this year,” was saying Angelina, checking from a piece of parchment. “Two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle. Haven’t heard of them before, but they don’t look bright enough to tell one end of the broom from another." 

_‘Well, that’s a bit rude,_ ’ thought Harry, then wondering if he had said it aloud because Angelina suddenly turned towards him with a sharp look.

Pocketing her parchment as she advanced, Angelina looked positively intimidating, channelling the intensity that Oliver Wood had once portrayed but somehow worse. “This is my first and last season as captain, Harry, and I plan for us to win," said Angelina, waving a warning finger at him. “This is the only match against Slytherin, and we need to rank as many points as we can for a good start. I want you to get that snitch, and do so quickly." 

Harry wisely chose not to point that _that_ was exactly his role as Seeker.

“You better not go easy on the other Seeker,” continued Angelina. “No matter what." 

“No matter what?” repeated Harry to Ron when she left. “What does that mean?"

“Yeah like,” chimed in Fred. “No matter if he _dumps_ you afterwards, we have to win." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That’s ridiculous." 

George shrugged. “I mean, I have seen it happen." 

“It’s just a match,” said Harry, rolling his eyes when the twins shared a pitying look and left. He sat next to Ron and kept quiet for a moment before turning to his friend with a huff. “That’s ridiculous, right?"

Ron looked at him, face still a bit green, “I don’t know, mate." 

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous,” repeated Harry, nodding to himself. But then another thought made him pause and turn towards his friend again. “But yesterday he was a bit quiet." 

“Maybe because you two were in the library." 

“Yes, sure.” Harry nodded to himself, but as the last time, another idea spoiled his tranquillity. “But he seemed a bit tense too." 

Ron raised an eyebrow at him. “And you didn’t ask?"

“Of course I did, but he said it was just homework,” said Harry, thinking about the way the blond had frowned down at the many books he had skimmed through. 

“Then it’s just homework."

They could hear the numerous footsteps of the students as they filled the stands, and Harry started to get feel nervous about the match, maybe not as much as Ron, but a bit more than usual. When it was time, the team shouldered their brooms and marched outside the room in line, being welcomed by the cheers of the crowd and the cold daylight. The Slytherin team was waiting for them, standing in line with their usual arrogance. Crabbe and Goyle looked uncomfortable in their uniforms, but the solid grip on their bats was menacing, and Montague seemed determined to crush Angelina’s fingers when they shook hands. 

But Harry’s biggest problem stood to the side, hair gleaming under the sunlight, looking paler than usual in a contrast with his dark green and black robes that came out as striking. Their eyes met and Harry’s nerves completely vanished because Draco was looking at him the same way he had done a year ago, a challenge issued on his clever eyes and a white smirk on his lips. It was a boastful look that sent a rush through Harry and made him grin in return. 

Madame Hooch blew the whistle, releasing the balls and the players, who shot upwards just as quickly. The golden glint of the snitch disappeared in a flash, and Harry circled the pitch waiting for it to reappear.

Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, stopped the course of the Quaffle Angelina threw, immediately passing it to Warrington, who zoomed past Alicia and Katie towards the small figure of Ron. Harry clenched his teeth as the Chaser drew nearer.

“It’s the first test for the new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley,” came Lee Jordan's voice “- and a promising new talent - Come on, Ron!"

Cheers came from the sea of green and silver as the Quaffle zoomed past Ron and through the centre hoop. Harry flew past the crowd, momentarily surprised when he noticed a quite big snake head among the Slytherins, then noticing the blonde hair under it. “Fall off your broom, Potter!” yelled Pansy, standing by the edge of one box with Luna, who waved at him cheerily, her weird hat hissing. 

The match went on, and Harry’s search grew frantic as Ron let through two other goals and the crown groaned, but the snitch was nowhere in sight as he circled the field again. He crossed paths with Draco, who had been doing the same, receiving a grin that would have made him linger if it weren’t for the new goal Pucey had scored.

“That’s forty-nil to Slytherin- Come on, Gryffindor!"

 _‘Come on, Harry,’_ thought Harry, in yet another lap around the field. He caught a golden glint hovering near the base of the Slytherin hoops and glanced at Draco, finding him looking at him too, holding his gaze for a microsecond before both of them dived for it. 

The wind howled on Harry’s ears, the field nothing but a blur as he zoomed through it. He and Draco were neck and neck, almost close enough to crash with each other. The Snitch seemed to twitch in air, moving back and forwards in place in a matter of seconds. Harry extended his arm at the same time Draco did. The golden glint moved again. It was mere centimetres away now.

 _‘Please don’t dump me,’_ thought Harry as his hand closed around the struggling ball. Catching his breath, he looked at Draco, not sure of what he would find. His boyfriend's pale face was flushed, his blond hair in disarray and his silver eyes fixed on Harry with annoyment. “No hard feelings, right?” said Harry, then grinning as he stretched his arm upwards, showing the snitch as the crowd cheered and the final whistle was blown.

- _WHAM!_

There was a sudden impact on his back, like an out of nowhere punch, and Harry was sent off his broom, landing on the frozen pitch that was _luckily_ close enough for the fall too be only slightly painful. Above him, he could see Draco staring at a sheepish Crabbe, both of them landing a few meters away while the crowd jeered at them, Lee calling it a nasty foul and Hooch zooming towards them while angrily blowing her whistle.

“Are you alright?” came Angelina’s voice. Harry glanced to his left and saw the captain offering a hand, which he gladly accepted. Angelina pulled him to his feet and gave him a careful look. 

“Just peachy,” managed Harry, voice strained by the effort. There was nothing broken, but the hit would leave a bruise and the fall had made him lose his air. He took a second to take it in again, as he looked at Angelina for an explanation.

The captain seemed angry. “It was that thug Crabbe, he whacked a bludger when he saw you with the snitch." Angelina shook her head, and then seemed to let it go. She grinned and patted him in the back. “But we won! Nicely done, Harry!"

“Merlin, Harry, are you alright?” Both Gryffindors turned around, finding Draco approaching them. The blond planted one end of his broom on the ground as his silver eyes studied Harry with concern. “Vincent has quite a swing," he added. 

Standing a bit straighter, despite the complaints of his back, Harry shrugged. “I’m fine, didn’t even feel it".

Angelina raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief.

“Oh, that’s _good_ ,” said Draco, sounding relieved. Then he bit his lower lip, that had wobbled a bit. Harry had seen him do that before and wasn’t surprised when it didn’t hold a second longer. The blond first lost the fight with the smile tugging at his lips and then broke into a laugh. “Because it was hilarious.”

“You are a git,” said Harry, somehow not finding it in himself to be angry.

“Oh, Merlin, it was so _good_ ,” laughed Draco, now leaning on his broom as if he couldn't stand up, silver eyes sparkling with glee and tears. “‘You being so _proud_ of yourself with your _‘No hard feelings, right?_ ’ and then _WHAM._ " 

There was a small snort next to him, and Harry turned to look at his betraying captain. Angelina had a carefully schooled expression again, but it didn’t hold. “Did you say that?" 

“Oh, he did.” Draco shook his head as if to calm himself, then taking a deep breath. He sobered up and gave Harry a curious look before glancing away.“Very arrogant of him, honestly..." He sighed.

Harry blinked in confusion, wondering it the blond was actually angry. But then he caught his eyes again and saw them sparkling. “You are kidding," said Harry with a smile, and then just to be sure, "Right?"

Draco only grinned at him. "Bye, Potter," he threw over his shoulder as he walked away to join his team again. The Slytherins were discussing with Madame Hooch, who kept pointing angrily at a confused Crabbe. Draco firmly stood next to his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder and staring down at the professor while Montague argued with her. 

Harry had to stop looking at the exchange when he was tackled from behind by the rest of the team and pushed into a loud celebration. He quickly noticed the absence of Ron, who was making his way out of the field alone. 

\---

The changing rooms were quiet, most of the team having already walked out to enjoy the rest of the day, with the exception of Fred, George and Harry, who sat in awkward silence trying to come up with a good way to cheer up Ron. 

“It was your first match, Ronnie, you will do better next time,” said Fred, and Harry and George nodded. 

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Ron again, sitting on a bench with his head down and shoulders sagged. 

“Everyone has bad days, Ron,” tried Harry. He didn't like seeing his friend like that, so defeated.

It didn't work either. “I screwed up, I let every goal in.” Ron let out a sigh and hunched further, his voice was small when he spoke again, “If it weren’t for you we would have lost, Harry." 

Harry opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what else to say. He glanced up at Fred, hoping he had another idea, but the twin merely shrugged in silence.

“Yeah!” snapped George, surprising the three of them, that looked at him expectantly. George actually looked a bit annoyed. “And?" Ron gaped at him. “I think you have forgotten, Ronniekins, that this isn’t a two-person match,” continued George tersely. “This is a _team_." 

“And I’m pulling all of you down,” retorted Ron. “I should just resign so someone better steps in." 

“Someone _better_?” came an angry voice, and they turned to look at Angelina as she walked into the room. “I chose you myself." 

Her sudden arrival had made Ron jump a bit on his seat. “Yeah, but-" 

“Are you suggesting I made a mistake?"

Ron blinked. “No, but-" 

“You were the best option, Weasley,” snapped Angelina, not letting him get another word out. “I didn’t choose you because of your brothers, or because of your friend, because Merlin knows I don’t care for them." 

“Gee, thanks,” whispered Fred.

Angelina ignored him, glaring at Ron. “I don’t want to hear nothing else about resigning just because we- We didn’t even lose the match! Get depressed when we do! Are we clear?"

“Uh, yes." 

“Yes, what?!” roared Angelina.

Ron straightened up on his seat, looking pale. “Yes, captain!” 

“Good,” huffed Angelina. She pointed her thumb at the door in clear dismissal. “Now, get out of my face." 

\---

The celebration in the common room was still going on when Harry walked in, yawning and still drowsy from his long nap at the library. The twins had once again taken out their products, and a circle of people had formed around them.

“Look who's back,” mused Hermione when he plopped down on the couch next to her. She had three different books open on her lap, and a piece of parchment on her hands. 

“What are you doing?” asked Harry, trying to decipher the contents of one of them. He quickly noticed they were the same Draco had been staring at until just a few moments ago. Harry had thought that he would take a break from studying after the match, but he had been wrong. 

Hermione didn't look up from her book. “Arithmancy."

“I think this is the first time I have seen you struggle with anything." 

That made her look up. “I’m not _struggling_ ,” said Hermione, sounding very offended. Then she huffed and glared at her book, mumbling, “It’s just taking a _bit_ longer." 

Harry hummed, giving up on trying to understand the figures and just looking at her. She seemed a bit tired, and the slight crease between her eyebrows reminded Harry of another tense student. And idea formed in its head, and he found himself liking it immediately.

“Maybe you could use some help,” started Harry casually. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “Harry, that’s very kind of you, but I don’t think you, well...." 

“No,” laughed Harry. “Not me, obviously. But since you and Draco are on Arithmancy-" 

“No,” cut in Hermione immediately. “I don’t need help." 

“I’m not saying you need it, but surely having someone that actually knows what those,” he paused, looking at the book again. He still had no idea what they were supposed to be. “Are those even numbers?"

“It’s a chart." 

“If you say so,” resolved Harry, sitting back and giving her a shrug. “Well, just think about it." 

Hermione sighed, grabbing her books and standing up. “I don’t know, Harry-” Something made her pause when her eyes passed over the window, and she quickly approached it to take a better look. Before Harry could ask or join her, his friend turned around with a bright smile. “Hagrid’s back!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late, but it's still Monday here! Hope you liked the chapter! Do leave a comment, I love reading your thoughts! I'll see you on Thursday!


	14. November 7, Tuesday: Backstabbing?

Despite Hagrid's return, Harry couldn't help but feel uneasy as he and his friends fought with the snow on their way down the grounds. The happy Groundskeeper was waiting for them by the edge of the forest, which along with the honest-to-god _carcass_ of a cow on his shoulder was a sign that Hagrid hadn't taken their advice to start with something not dangerous.

Thankfully, Umbridge and her awful pink cardigan were nowhere in sight, letting Harry, Ron and Hermione let out a relieved sigh.

"We're workin' in here today!" said Hagrid, smiling as he pointed at the forest behind him. "They prefer the dark!"

"They?" asked a hushed voice, the only warning Harry got before there were hands circling his arm. "What did he say liked the dark?"

"Salazar, Draco, quit being a baby," groaned Parkinson, looking at Harry. "Your problem now."

Harry grinned at that and tugged Draco along to follow the rest of the class. The forest was dark, even during the day, the distant sounds ambiguous enough to add to the unsettling atmosphere that ensured that Draco was not the only pale-looking student.

"Oh, just not spiders, anything but spiders."

Hermione laughed. "There are worse things than spiders, Ron."

"Like Umbridge," said Harry, disappointed when that didn't manage to crack a smile out of Draco. He spoke to him softly, "Hagrid isn't going to put us in danger."

"Unless you go around insulting whatever he shows us," mumbled Ron.

Draco scowled at him but didn't say anything. 

"What we're studyin' today is pretty rare," called Hagrid from the front. "I reckon I'm the only person in Britain who has managed to train 'em." 

"That sounds promising," muttered Parkinson under her breath. "We are going to die in the forest, eaten by a _rare_ creature." 

"There are worse ways to go," mused Zabini. "For example, Harry here is about to lose an arm." 

"Sod off, Blaise," muttered Draco, letting go of his white grip on Harry's arm.

Harry reached for his hand. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

Draco shivered, "I hope not. I don't want to see any dead creatures besides that cow- Harry, _why does he have a dead cow_?"

“For the flesh-eating beast, of course,” said Zabini coolly. “I reckon it wasn’t satisfied with his face."

Parkinson perked up and looked at Zabini with wide amused eyes. “You are right! What do you think could have messed up his face like that? He looks like he got in a fight and lost." The bruises that Hagrid had on his face on Saturday hadn’t faded yet, somehow looking even worse and being another reason for Harry to worry about Umbridge’s inspection. 

“I reckon that’s none of your business,” said Hermione. 

“ _Everything_ is my business, Granger." 

The forest grew darker as they walked further in, and by the time they finally stopped the trees were so close together that there was no snow on the floor and no light either as if nightfall had fallen upon them. Hagrid seemed right at home, throwing the carcass on the ground and looking at the group with an eager smile. “Gather around,” he called. “The smell of the meat will attract them, but I’m going to call them anyway, so they’ll know it’s me." 

Harry’s fingers were almost crushed by Draco's hold when Hagrid let out a shrieking cry that echoed through the woods, above the heads of the scared students. Nobody moved or said anything as Hagrid let out a second cry, keeping watch over the carcass.

“Why doesn’t Hagrid call again?” whispered Ron. 

Harry shrugged, looking around the class. Everyone seemed as confused as them, even Parkinson was starting to look a little pale. The only exception were Neville, whose gaze was fixed on a spot in the air, and Theodore Nott, who stood behind Goyle, looking at the carcass with a disgusted expression.

“Here comes another,” said Hagrid happily, eyes moving as if following something. He looked up at the class with a smile. “Who else can see ‘em?" Only Neville and Nott raised their hands, neither of them looking pleased about it. 

“Hagrid,” asked Hermione softly. “What is there?"

As an answer, Hagrid pointed at the carcass, directing the attention of the class towards it again. There were gasps and yelps as they witnessed long strips of flesh coming off the bone, disappearing into thin air. 

“What is eating it?” yelped Parvati in horror, retreating towards a tree. “What is it?"

“Thestrals,” said Hagrid proudly. “Hogwart has a whole herd of ‘em." 

“But those are supposed to bring misfortune!” said Lavender. “That’s what professor Trelawney said!"

Hagrid laughed, explaining that it was just a superstition, which wasn’t surprising considering what other things the woman said. “Now, who can tell me why some people can see ‘em, and others can’t?"

“The only people that can see thestrals, are those that have seen death,” answered Hermione, earning herself a bright smile from Hagrid.

“Exactly! 10 points for Gryffindor,” said Hagrid. “Now, thestrals-" 

_“Hem, hem,”_ came a dreadful cough.

Draco dropped Harry’s hand, discreetly leaving his side along with the Slytherins, quickly enough to be standing away when the woman reached the front of the class. She was wearing a green hat that reminded Harry of Fudge’s. 

\---

By the end of the inspection, Hermione had tears of fury in her eyes, glaring at Umbridge as she left and looking an inch away from hexing her. Harry felt the same way, after having to stand the awful woman treating Hagrid as if he were below her, speaking slowly and in a patronizing way. Hagrid’s loss at the treatment had only made it worse, the man looking severely less enthusiastic as he continued the class.

They lingered after class ended, watching Hagrid speaking to the thestrals. Or more accurately, watching Hagrid speaking to the air, where they could only guess the thestrals were. 

“That woman _really_ has a talent for being nasty,” said Draco as he stopped next to them, joining their silent lookout.

“Yet you were quite friendly with her,” snapped Hermione accusingly. 

Draco frowned. “Would you prefer me to call her a _foul gargoyle_ to her face?"

“I don’t think you are capable of that,” scoffed Hermione, and Harry winced.

“Oh, really?" Draco was now giving her a nasty look. "Why not set the example and just say whatever you are implying, Granger?"

Harry stood between them before it was too late. “Hermione, it’s not like that." 

His friend didn't look convinced at all. “Really? Because it sure looks like she is his favourite teacher,” she hissed.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Granger,” said Draco coldly. The expression he had on his face was a familiar one and Harry wasn't surprised when his next words were, “I’m taking my leave now, I’ll see you later, Harry." And with that, the blond spun on his heel and walked away.

"Draco," called Harry to no avail. The blond kept walking towards the same path the rest of the students had taken a while ago. Harry was just about to go after him when the blond stopped out of the blue with a startled yelp, then taking a quick step back while giving the air in front of him an accusing look.

“There’s a thestral there, Malfoy,” grunted Hagrid. He was still standing by the middle of the clearing, next to the unseen creatures. He gestured with his big hand. “Just walk around." 

Draco turned around and blinked at him. " _How_?"

“How?” asked Hagrid, looking lost again. Then he blinked too. “Oh, right, you can’t see them, can you?" When Draco shook his head, Hagrid advanced towards him, the way he did it not unlike the way Harry had seen him approach other creatures. The Groundskeeper rested a hand in the air gently, probably holding the thestral. “Go on then,” he grunted.

Draco didn’t move.

“It’s not gonna hurt you," said Hagrid. 

“Right.” Draco cleared his throat and walked by the spot, pressing himself close to a tree. Once he had passed the gap, he turned towards Hagrid with an uncertain expression, clearing his throat again before speaking, "Thank you." 

Hagrid seemed even more lost when Harry, Ron and Hermione came to stand next to him, looking at Draco as he walked away. _Alone_ , through the _dark_ forest.

“Is Malfoy okay?” grunted Hagrid, sounding confused. 

“I’ll go with him,” said Harry, waving at his friends as he hurried after his boyfriend. “See you in class!" he added over his shoulder. 

“Is Harry okay?” he heard Hagrid asking Ron and Hermione. 

\---

As usual, Harry made his way to the library after dinner, it having become his go-to spot when they didn’t have D.A meetings. However, today Hermione insisted on coming along. Harry hadn’t asked her for a reason, but judging from the frown she had had since they left Hagrid’s class, he had a sense of what it was about.

Hermione raised an eyebrow as Harry walked her further in, the table where he usually sat with Draco near the back of the library. “Less noisy,” explained Harry, wishing he could tell her it was because they didn’t want Umbridge to notice them if she walked in. He rolled his eyes when Hermione hummed in disbelief.

Draco didn’t look up when Harry sat next to him, frown still directed towards yet another book. After a moment he sighed, closing it and reaching for another, finally noticing Hermione sitting in front of him. “Granger,” he greeted tersely, sitting straighter. 

Hermione folded her hands on the table. “Malfoy." 

After several moments of silence, Harry sighed and leaned to whisper on Draco’s ear. “You could just tell her, you know." 

“I don’t feel like it,” said Draco, looking down at his book again. Moments passed in awkward silence, Harry drumming his fingers on the table, watching the crease between Draco’s eyebrows grow with each tap, until he cracked and looked up again. "I do _not_ like that woman, Granger."

Hermione sighed. “I know, I shouldn’t have suggested that." 

“You shouldn’t have,” said Draco, scrunching his nose. “But I do understand why you might have thought so." He glanced at Harry and sighed, “I’m just trying to stay on her good side, that’s all." 

“But why?"

“Figure it out yourself since you are _so_ clever." 

Harry looked at him. “ _Draco_." 

“Wait,” said Hermione, leaning in with a serious look. “Are you going to backstab her?"

Draco gaped. " _What?_ Of course not, I’m not a savage." He frowned at Harry when he started laughing. “What is wrong with you two?"

“She didn’t mean to _actually_ stab her, Draco,” explained Harry. “It’s a saying, means to betray someone." 

“That makes no sense." 

“It comes from the idea of attacking someone when they least expect it,” explained Hermione with a small smile. “Or betraying someone when they trust you." 

“Oh,” said Draco. “Then, I suppose that, yes, I’m going to _backstab_ her." 

Harry patted his arm softly. “Yes, you are." 

“So that’s why,” mused Hermione, then looking troubled. “Malfoy, I’m so-" 

“Nonsense,” cut in Draco dismissively. “You didn’t know."

Hermione nodded, going back to look at her hands. The silence persisted, and Hermione started taking the same books from the other day out of her bag, placing them on the table carefully. Draco raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t say anything, going back to frown at his book. Refusing to stand the silence again, Harry looked at Hermione, nodding his head towards Draco until she let out a sigh. 

“Malfoy,” she said casually. “Have you gotten started on the assignment professor Vector left us?"

Draco frowned. “You haven’t?"

“Of course I have,” said Hermione, rather defensively. She glanced at Harry, sighing when he nodded at her to keep going, “I was wondering if you managed to invert the last chart-" 

“ _You haven’t?"_

Hermione immediately glared at Harry, who glared at Draco in return. “Don’t be a git." 

“No, no,” said Draco. “I haven’t finished either, I was just surprised." 

“You haven’t?” repeated Hermione, looking a bit relieved. She pushed her parchment forwards. “I have gotten past the first ten combinations, but then nothing!"

Draco leaned over the table to see and blinked. " _How_? I had to start with the last ones."

Harry smiled to himself as they started talking, resting his head on his arms as he watched over them. Of course, like any reasonable person listening to a conversation about numbers, he quickly fell asleep.

\---

Some time must have passed when he woke up because the conversation had moved from numbers to words again. He didn’t open his eyes, listening in their conversation as fingers thread through his hair. 

“I have to admit, it’s quite clever,” was saying Draco. “Pansy showed me the one you gave her, and it’s almost indistinguishable from a real galleon." 

“I can hand you one as well if you wish. I just thought Harry was letting you know about the meetings." 

“He is. But I’d like to make one myself." 

“Oh... I could help. It’s a bit tricky." 

A huff. “Of course it is, the Protean charm is NEWT level at least." 

“So I’ve been told." Fingers drummed on the table. “Is there a reason you want to make one yourself?"

“Could be useful." Draco hummed. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind getting ahead on my NEWTs." 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” mumbled Harry, feeling the fingers on his hair retreat. He opened his eyes slowly, smiling at the frowns directed at him.

“You shouldn’t just come to the library to sleep,” said Hermione sternly. 

Harry shrugged. “I already did my homework. Plus, I didn’t understand a thing you two were saying." 

“I could explain you,” said Draco, grinning when Harry grimaced. He opened his mouth, probably to keep teasing, but then he seemed to notice something over Hermione’s shoulder and stopped. “Theo." 

Nott was standing by the table. “Can I speak to you for a second, Draco?" Harry didn’t like the way he looked at Hermione.

“Yes, of course,” said Draco, standing up. He glanced at Harry, who noticed he seemed a bit tense, and then followed Nott. Both of them disappeared behind a shelf and probably kept walking because Harry didn’t hear any conversation start near them. 

When he looked back at Hermione, the girl was giving him a warning look. “Don’t try to snoop in, Harry." 

“I wasn’t going to,” protested Harry, despite having been a second away from proposing the very same thing. He drummed his fingers on the table, lasting exactly ten seconds before leaning in and asking Hermione, “What do you think he wants?"

“I don’t know,” said Hermione. She let out a sigh and started rolling up her parchment. “Listen, what are you planning for the next meeting?"

Harry hummed. “We could get started on the Impediment jinx. What do you think?"

They fell into an easy talk, Hermione taking some notes to start making a schedule since the holidays were approaching and they would have to take a break. “Then we could get started on the Patronus by April, but-,” she paused, looking at him in alarm when voices started approaching, one of them sounding very posh and very irritated. 

“That’s my business and my business alone, Theodore."

“But it’s not just _your_ business now, is it, Draco?” retorted Nott harshly. “I’m just telling you-" 

“I heard you."

There was a pause, then Nott's voice returned, cold and menacing, “I’m keeping my word, Draco, as long as you do the same." After that, Nott appeared from behind the shelf again, sparing Hermione and Harry one last dark look before walking away. Draco followed, not saying anything as he started packing his things, shoulders tense and eyebrows furrowed. 

“What happened?” asked Harry, standing up. 

“Nothing.” Draco shouldered his bag. “I just have to go now." 

Harry held his hand. “Draco, what’s wrong?"

“Everything is fine, it’s just late.” Draco didn’t look at him, instead turning towards Hermione. He seemed to pause for a moment, then giving her a nod. “Thank you, Granger, you helped a lot." 

“Oh,” said Hermione, looking surprised. “Of course, thank you as well." 

“ _Draco,_ " insisted Harry, and the blond finally met his eyes, steel gaze softening slightly. Draco sighed and cupped his face with a hand, giving him a very brief kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow," he said. "Yes?" 

“Yes, okay,” agreed Harry. “But are you sure you are alright? If there’s anything I can do-" 

“I _know_ , Harry, but it’s nothing, really,” said Draco, giving him a brief smile before leaving.

Harry watched him leave and then turned to share a look with Hermione, who only shook her head and collected her things. “I think you should leave it, Harry." 

It wasn't the answer he wanted. “ _Why_?"

“First, because it _is_ late,” said Hermione. “And second, because it’s private." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Hope you liked the chapter! If you did, please leave a comment, I love reading your thoughts! I'll see you on Monday!
> 
> And Happy October!


	15. December 20, Wednesday: You just have to ask

The doors to the Requirement Room had just opened to let the last group out when a series of gasps and a new set of steps made Harry look up from his parchment in alarm. 

"What is _he_ doing here?" asked Dean. 

Draco was making his way to Harry, pointedly ignoring the stares the group of Gryffindors directed at him. Harry noticed that no one had even attempted to stop him, and wondered if it was due to them becoming accustomed to Slytherins, or just poor reflexes. _'Should work on that,'_ thought Harry, smiling at Draco as he came to stand next to him. "Hi." 

"Hi," said Draco, looking around the room that was filled with cushions. "More Stunning today?"

"THEY ARE WHAT?!" came Dean's voice from afar, followed by Ron's chuckling.

"Yes," answered Harry. "And the impediment jinx. Just reviewing everything before we leave."

Draco scrunched his nose. "That sounds boring." He leaned closer to Harry to examine his parchment. "What else are you planning?"

"Bye, Harry!" called Hermione, waving at him from the door. "And bye, Malfoy!"

"See you later," said Harry, while Draco just nodded silently, eyes going back to the list once the doors shut close. Draco read it to himself until something made him stop.

"Ah, _Patronus Potter_." 

"That's what your father called me," commented Harry. _'And in the exact same tone'._

"I know. He was quite proud of that one," said Draco, turning towards him with a white grin. "Patronus Potter."

Harry grimaced. "I think I like Scarhead better."

"Of course you do, I created it," said Draco, going back to look at the list. "Patronus Potter," he said again thoughtfully. "I heard it was corporeal and everything." Harry looked at him and Draco continued, "And that's quite difficult to achieve, isn't it?" His silver eyes were on Harry now, looking at him in a way that made Harry want to puff his chest and said that _no_ , it had been rather easy for him.

Instead, he told the truth. “Quite. Took me months to manage.”

“Yet you kept going." 

Harry shrugged. “I just really hate Dementors." 

“Well, who doesn’t,” said Draco, then leaving his side. His steps echoed around the room as he wandered around it, studying the Christmas decorations that had appeared a few days ago. Something near the ceiling caught his eyes, and he turned towards Harry curiously. “Mistletoe." 

“Careful, I hear it’s filled with nargles." 

Draco hummed, studying it again. “I’ve heard of those." 

“Parkinson?"

“And now Greg,” said Draco, turning to look at him. “He’s been convinced, and Lovegood is _ecstatic_ to share her magazine with someone else." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I still don’t understand where that friendship came from." 

“Nargles, probably." Draco smiled at him. There was something about the Room that suited him perfectly, as if it had been tailored for him. Perhaps it was the tall ceilings and immaculate mirror walls, or the elegant atmosphere that resulted strangely eerie. Or maybe it was just Draco himself, who carried an air of importance that made it look as if he owned any place he set foot in. Be it the library, owlery, or even the forest. 

“You are staring."

Harry blinked, noticing that Draco was now standing near the middle of the room, looking very satisfied with himself. “I was just thinking that you must be infested with Nargles too." 

Draco frowned. “The only pest bothering me is you." 

“Are you going to get rid of me?"

“Of course not,” said Draco, grinning at him. “I need you to teach me Defense, after all." 

Harry smiled. “In that case, let’s get started at once." 

\---

Ten minutes in, Harry started thinking about making a separate schedule just for Draco. He had breezed through the Impediment Jinx, and when they started with the Stunning it was clear he had no issues with aiming, as Neville had had. “I think that’s enough for today,” said Harry, standing up after being stunned for the fourth time. 

Draco laughed. “Just one more, to make sure I got it." 

“You just want to watch me fall again, don’t you?"

“I’m just trying to practise, Potter,” said Draco innocently. He then gave Harry a mischievous smile. “The amusement I may get from your face when you get stunned is just an added bonus." 

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed the cushion, turning around to place it on the top of a big pile, making sure it wouldn’t fall. When he returned, Draco was walking around the Room again. Even after coming many times before, he still seemed drawn to it, taking his time to examine every column, artefact, book or object the Room provided. 

Everything but the mechanic dummies. 

Draco always gave them a wide berth, silver eyes purposely never passing over them, as if repelled by their very existence. The Room hadn’t wheeled them closer again since their first meeting, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was due to Draco or himself. 

“This is a very spacious room,” commented Draco, his voice pulling Harry out of his thoughts. Now that there were no other students and no cushions on the ground, it was very easy to admire the size of the Room. Especially through the quietness, when the only sounds echoing around it were the steps Draco was taking from the wall to the centre. 

Harry realized he was measuring it.

“You think?” he asked.

Draco looked up at him with a smile. “Yes, it actually reminds me of one of the rooms back at home." 

“The ballroom?” tried Harry, figuring that’s what rich people have in their houses. Or at least what the ones on stories do.

“Too small to remind me of that one,” said Draco, giving Harry a grin that made it hard to tell if he was messing with him or showing off. 

Harry thought about the only wealthy house he knew, “The drawing-room?"

“Yes, actually,” said Draco, looking at him curiously.

“Does it look the same?"

Draco shook his head. “Not at all." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Then?"

“Then what reminds me of it? Probably just the size, and that fireplace over there.” Draco glanced up and the chandelier. “We have two of these, but I have to admit I like this one better." 

Harry smiled at that. “Do you spend much time there?"

“A drawing room is meant for guests, Harry," said Draco, as if that weren't ridiculous. 

“That makes no sense. Why have a room only for guests?"

“My thoughts exactly." 

“Really?"

“When I was a child, yes,” said Draco, grinning when Harry frowned. “I used to spend a lot of time there, just looking around." 

Harry thought about Grimmauld Place again. “Any interesting things there?"

“Not really, I just liked it." 

“Were you _drawn_ to it?"

Draco scrunched his nose. “That was awful." 

“Thank you,” said Harry, walking towards him to look at the chandelier too, as if it were what they were talking about. “What else did you do there, apart from looking around?"

Draco took a moment to answer and Harry hoped he wasn’t going to say something like _‘chase the house-elves around with a bat, Harry, like every other child.’_ Harry wondered what Dobby would say if he asked about Draco.

He hadn’t answered yet, and Harry looked at him again, finding him lost in thought. “Drawing with crayons, maybe?” he provided.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “What is a _crayon_?"

“Children use it to draw, it has different colours." 

“Paint?"

“Er, yes, like paint but solid." 

Draco frowned. “Why would you do that to the paint?"

 _‘This is like a conversation with Mr Weasley’._ Harry smiled. “I’ll show you one day." 

“Alright,” conceded Draco, sounding a bit strained. “ _Anyway_ , to answer your question, there is a piano there." 

‘ _Of course he plays the piano.’_

“When we had guests it would play by itself, but when it was only us my mother did it." 

Harry blinked. “Not you?"

“Potter, I was five." Draco shook his head, “But yes, not me. I would sit close and listen to her playing, sometimes my father came too."

“Does he play?"

“Of course he does,” said Draco defensively, as if Harry had offended his father somehow. Then he glanced away. “But he usually just listened, and sometimes he..." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes he?"

Draco tilted up his chin. “Sometimes he would dance with me,” he said, then looking at Harry as if daring him to laugh.

Harry didn’t want to laugh, because it wasn’t _funny_ to think of a younger Lucius dancing around a spacious room with a little Draco to the sound of his wife’s piano. It was _terrifying_ because fitting that warm picture with the awful things the man had probably done felt _wrong_. “Wouldn’t the ballroom be better for that?” asked Harry, hoping his face hadn’t shown any of his thoughts. 

Seemingly calmed by his answer, Draco smiled at him. “Open the entire ballroom just for that? No, the drawing-room was enough for us." 

_‘Enough’,_ thought Harry. _‘I wonder what the Dursleys would say if Draco called this room bigger than their entire ground floor ‘Enough.’’_

“My parents taught me to dance, not Snape." 

Harry frowned at the odd comment. “What?"

“Don’t you remember?” asked Draco, looking a bit disappointed. “Last year you told me McGonagall taught you the waltz, for Yule." 

“Ron,” said Harry, grinning at the memory. “She taught Ron and thank you for reminding me of that. Also for reminding me of you dancing with Snape." 

Draco frowned. “For your information, Snape didn’t dance with anyone." 

“But you."

“He didn’t dance with me,” said Draco, then looking up at the ceiling. “And neither did you." 

Harry looked at him. “Did you want to?" he asked.

Draco's silver eyes were on him again. "You didn’t?"

Harry remembered looking at him all night. “I did." 

“You didn’t ask." 

“Neither did you." 

Draco hummed. “I wasn’t sure." 

“If I’d say yes?" asked Harry. 

“If we could," said Draco quietly. 

_‘Probably not,’_ thought Harry, because it surely would have been a big issue for the school, and considering the attention the Triwizard Tournament was receiving, for the papers as well. As he looked around the Room an idea came to him, and before thinking it better he blurted it out, “We can now." 

Draco blinked. “Now?" he repeated.

“Yes,” said Harry, wondering what the Room would do. “I mean, you just have to ask." 

The silence stretched as they looked at each other until music drifted to their ears from a corner of the room, where a gramophone that hadn’t been there before played a record. Harry recognized the tune as one of the many played during the Ball.

Harry didn’t know what to do, so he just offered a hand, “Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer." 

“I know,” said Draco, taking it and grinning at him. “Put a hand on my shoulder." 

Harry did. “Not your waist?"

“I’m leading, Harry,” said Draco, placing his other hand on Harry’s back. “You don’t want to step on me, do you?"

“Just a bit." 

“Charming,” deadpanned Draco. He straightened his back and raised their joined hands, then looking at Harry. “Ready?"

“Yes, sir." 

Draco rolled his eyes, and with a small tug of his hand, they were moving. It was different than dancing with Parvati. Not only because of the partner but also because Harry actually felt that he was _dancing_ , not just _staggering_ around the floor thinking about where to go next. There was no need for thinking now. He only had to follow Draco’s steps, and let himself be lead wherever the blond wanted. It was easy, like flying, and for a moment Harry felt as if he had been absorbed by the same gracefulness the blond always portrayed. 

Draco was quiet for the first moments, as if busy finding his pace, even when it looked like he had it from the moment they began. Then his eyes flickered to Harry’s and he smiled. “You are not so bad." 

“Or maybe you are just really good." 

“Of course I am,” said Draco proudly as they turned. “But you are doing well, you just need some practice." 

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Maybe instead of me teaching you Defense, you could teach me how to dance." 

“What? No more stunning?” asked Draco with a wide grin. “What will I do without it?"

“I think you are already _stunning_ enough." 

Silence, only breached by the music and their steps. Then Draco said, “That was _awful_." 

“Yet you are smiling,” countered Harry. “But on a serious note, we don’t have to do that anymore." 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Tired of falling?"

“ _Yes_ , but you are also advancing faster than the rest." 

“Obviously." 

“So we could get started on offensive spells at once." 

“ _Harry_." Draco looked a bit pink, and Harry wondered if it had been something he had said. Then he licked his lips and Harry didn’t think about much. 

“Yes?" he asked.

“Could you-?” Draco shook his head as if to clear it and looked at him rather seriously. “I want to learn the Patronus Charm." 

Harry frowned. “Alright, sure, but I think we should do the offensive spells first." 

Draco didn’t seem pleased with that. “Couldn’t we do those after?"

“Those are the ones that will show up on the exams, you know,” pointed Harry. _‘And the ones you will have to use in case someone tries to kill you’_ ’.

“I think my level is enough for the exams,” said Draco easily, smiling at him as he turned them around again. “Come on." 

Harry refrained from accepting at that very instant. “Listen, we could at least do the basics, but we have to do them. We can start with-" His words died when Draco leaned in, noses touching as he rested his forehead on Harry’s. There was nowhere to look but him. 

“Harry,” called Draco, drawing his gaze from his lips to his eyes. They weren’t dancing anymore.

“Yes?"

Draco leaned even closer, his next words almost tangible over Harry's lips, “ _Please_." 

“Okay, sure,” breathed out Harry.

He registered the eyes twinkling, and then a movement called his attention downwards and they were kissing. It was slow, tentative and then deeper, a bit like the music playing around the room, but in a tangible form. Draco pulled back first, giving Harry a bright smile.

“Thank you." 

“Yes, alright,” sighed Harry, looking at him. “Very Slytherin of you." 

“Not sure of what you mean, Harry.” Draco stepped back. His grin said he knew exactly what he had done, but Harry couldn’t find it in himself to be angry and just rolled his eyes. 

“Why are you so fixated with learning it, anyway?"

“I just think it’s important." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “More than offensive spells?"

“Those are _easy_." 

“ _Easy_ ?” repeated Harry. He blinked in realisation. “Wait, do you want to learn the Patronus because it's _difficult_ ?" Draco didn’t answer and Harry grinned. “ _Of course_ you do."

“If I have a chance to learn an advanced spell I’m going to take it,” said Draco haughtily. 

“Because it’s _cool_ ,” said Harry, laughing when Draco turned on his heel to walk away. He followed, standing by the centre. “Alright, alright. We will start after the holidays." Draco looked back at him but didn’t move. “Okay?” added Harry, extending a hand. “Now dance with me a bit more." 

Draco walked towards him slowly, raising an eyebrow when he reached him. “Why are you grinning?"

“Look up." 

Draco did, a smile crossing his face when he saw the mistletoe. “Nargles." He looked at Harry again. “Very Slytherin of you, Potter." 

“Must be catching it from you." 

\---

It was late when Harry walked into the common room, humming to himself the same tune that had echoed around the Room. Neville had done the same last year, and now Harry felt like he understood him better. He wasn’t surprised to see Ron and Hermione awake, nor by the extremely long parchment the girl was writing, but he wasn’t expecting almost all D.A members from his house, waiting for him with eager looks.

“Hi?” said Harry, turning to look at his friends. The way Ron chuckled was enough to tell. “Let me guess." 

“Ron spilled,” said Hermione, George and Fred.

Said ginger gaped. “Malfoy was the one that just walked in with no explanation, I just had to say something." 

Harry sighed, sitting down next to Hermione. “Saves me the trouble, then."

Lavender and Parvati straight out shrieked, making Dean wince and cover his ears. “How?” asked Lavender, looking fascinated.

“And what day, exactly?” asked Parvati. “I want to ask Trelawney about it." 

Harry frowned. “I don’t-" 

“Harry, can I take pictures?” asked Colin, waving his always-ready camera. 

“No, Colin-" 

“Harry, what the hell?” exclaimed Dean. “I have to tell Seamus." 

Harry wasn’t very happy with Seamus at the moment, and maybe that was the reason he finally snapped and stood up. “No!" Everyone blinked at him. “You can’t tell anyone, not a teacher, no students, no one. And no _pictures,_ ” said Harry, watching how Colin lowered his camera. “I need this to remain between us, like the D.A." 

“Why?” asked Lee.

“It’s very important,” said Harry, not wanting to say much. “For now it has to remain a secret-" 

Lavender covered her mouth. “A _secret_ relationship?"

Harry regretted speaking. “It’s not-" 

“That is so romantic!"

“Yes, so romantic,” repeated the twins. “True romance in our times." 

Parvati sighed. “Alright, I’m not telling. But I’m calling dibs on telling Trelawney when it’s out there!" 

“Oh, no,” deadpanned Hermione. “I wanted to tell her." 

“Sorry, Hermione,” said Lavender, then turning to Harry with an eager smile. “So, how did it happen?"

Everyone looked at him.

Harry sat down again. “That is none of your business." 

Everyone booed.

\---

That night, Harry first dreamed of an empty ballroom, with white walls and floors and soft music, white smiles and graceful steps.

Then the floors turned dark, and the ballroom became a hall and there was a door at the end. 

Harry wasn't dancing anymore, but he felt graceful and strong as he slithered towards the door. 

And there was a man on the door, red hair standing up in the darkness, and face white when Harry attacked him.

Harry woke up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter! Kudos and comments are very appreciated! I'll see you on Thursday!


	16. December 25, Monday: Cheer Up! It's Christmas at Grimmauld Place!

Harry had thought that he would feel better once he finally saw Arthur Weasley out of the hospital. But even then, when the man was surrounded by his relieved family on the dinner table, the weight on Harry’s stomach hadn’t left. But he had been wrong. In fact, he felt even worse whenever he looked at the bandages the man had, covering the bruises and wounds that had yet to heal, the ones that Harry _could_ be responsible for putting there. 

Feeling like an intruder among the warm reunion, Harry took the first chance to leave the table once dinner was over. He didn't feel like returning to his bedroom, so he wandered around the house, once again noticing the distinct absence of Kreacher. The elf had been missing since they arrived, after he had started badmouthing everyone and Sirius yelled at him to get out of the kitchen. The way the elf had looked pleased to do so didn’t sit well with Harry, but Sirius was convinced he was just hiding in the attic.

Figuring he could at least try to find him, Harry walked around poking his head in every room. He checked the bedrooms, the bathrooms, the storage and even Buckbeak's room, where the creature was sleeping, but the elf was nowhere to be seen.

He opened yet another door, pausing when he realized it was the drawing room. He checked the walls, feeling oddly disappointed when he saw that the tapestry was still there. The couch he sat on was dusty, its fabric so damaged by time and neglect it was impossible to determine its original colour. The paper was peeling off the walls, and the curtains hung sadly off their bent rods. 

Knowing that the room had once been meant for guests only made its present state even more pitiful.

 _‘I wonder what would Draco say about this room,’_ thought Harry, looking at the old furniture. _‘Maybe, that it’s too small’._ The room wasn’t even half of the size of the Room of Requirement, which didn’t mean it was small, just that it was a normal-sized room. However, it still had two chandeliers, a fireplace and a piano, so _perhaps_ it wasn’t that far off.

Except that the chandeliers were broken, the fireplace was dirty and the piano- Actually, the piano was just fine, just a bit dusty. The one at Draco's house would definitely not be dusty, knowing Draco. 

While looking at it, Harry was reminded of Draco and took out a package from his jacket. It had arrived early this morning and had been placed alongside the other presents, probably by Mrs Weasley. Harry had recognized the neat handwriting in an instant and pocketed it, because there was no way he would open it in front of the twins and be subjected to relentless teasing. Now that there was no one around to poke fun at him, he opened it carefully.

It was a scarf, of a soft material that _felt_ expensive and a green tone that resulted familiar.

“Assuming from the colour and your silly face, I’m guessing that’s from my dear cousin," said an amused voice, startling Harry into looking up. Sirius was standing by the door, looking at Harry with a grin. The day they had arrived he had looked as dishevelled as he had in Hogsmeade, perhaps even worse. Today he was clean-shaven and well dressed, making it clear he was delighted to have people around after being lonely for so long.

“Colour?” repeated Harry.

“Green,” said Sirius, leaning by the doorframe and gesturing at the room. “It’s all around here, their House colours." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps they just liked the colour. I mean, I don’t see you wearing red and gold." 

Sirius grimaced. “Doesn’t suit me, I already tried." 

The mental image of his godfather dressed in a bright red and gold suit made Harry snort. Then he looked down at the scarf between his hands and felt the fabric again. It was probably the softest thing Harry had ever felt. “I like it," he decided. 

“I can tell.” Sirius was grinning when Harry looked at him again. “So, that's why you left the table? Wanted to open your present in private so no one would see you dumb smile?"

The weight on his stomach returned, and along came the guilt. His smile faltered as he looked down at the scarf again. "Sirius," he asked in a quiet voice, "Is there something wrong with me?"

“Something wrong?"

Harry stood up, one hand holding on the scarf tightly as he looked at his godfather. Sirius seemed concerned now, his dark eyebrows furrowed as he approached Harry carefully. “The vision I had, it wasn’t just as if I was witnessing it,” said Harry. His throat felt suddenly dry, but he kept going, “I _was_ the snake. _I_ attacked Mr Weasley. What if I attack someone else?”

Sirius seemed taken aback for a moment, but then he frowned. “Harry, you are not going to attack anyone." 

“But I did, and then at the office, with Dumbledore- Sirius, I felt so angry at him, as if I wanted to hurt him too." Harry was almost afraid to utter the next words, "What if Voldemort it’s making me like him? What if I’m going bad?"

“Harry,” said Sirius sternly, placing his hands on his shoulders and looking at him. “You are not a bad person, you are not going to hurt anyone, you haven’t hurt anyone." 

“Then what happened?"

Sirius shook his head. “We don’t know, but I’m sure we will find out, and mostly, I’m sure you are not _turning bad_. This entire thing might just be the result of the connection you have. Like your scar, right? It’s probably due to the Dark Lord being more active now." 

Harry wasn’t convinced, and it must have shown on his face because his godfather sighed and squeezed his shoulders. “No one thinks it’s your fault, Harry. We will figure it out, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it will be fine." Sirius smiled at him. “Plus, it’s thanks to your connection that Arthur is now sitting with his family, and not, well..., you know." 

“I guess..." conceded Harry. 

Sirius gave him a grin. “Come on, now, it’s Christmas, cheer up!" He smacked him on the back, almost making him stumbled. “You should be with your family downstairs, not in this," he looked around with disgust, "depressing room." 

“It’s _really_ depressing,” sighed Harry. The state of the house was truly a sad sight. He raised an eyebrow at Sirius. “You should clean it up since Kreacher won’t do it." 

Sirius hummed, taking a moment to answer. He gave Harry an odd look. “Maybe you could help me with that once you return." 

“What?" Harry wasn't sure if he had heard right.

“I wanted to talk to you about that. You see, I’m legally your godfather and even if I hadn’t been able to fulfil my role, for, well, reasons, I was thinking that maybe once my name is cleared up I could make up for it." Sirius scratched his head.

Harry blinked in realisation. “ _Wait_ , you want me to live here with you?"

Sirius gave him a thin smile. “I understand if you don’t want to,” he said, looking uncertain. “It’s not exactly a good place, and Kreacher is just a vermin, but-" 

“Sirius, are you kidding?” asked Harry, feeling overwhelmed. “Of course I want to. Can I? Really?"

Sirius looked shocked. “You do?" he repeated and then gave Harry a bright smile when he nodded. "Of course you can-" He paused when Harry hugged him fiercely and his voice turned softer as he patted him in the back, “Of course you can, Harry." 

_‘I can live with Sirius. I don’t have to return to Private Drive’_ , things Harry could only dream of now seemed closer. He stepped back and beamed at his godfather. “Thank you." 

Sirius smiled back. “Trust me, I need the company too, Kreacher is driving me crazy." There was a spark of amusement in his dark eyes and he jabbed at Harry in the arm. "Plus, you should be getting used to living in houses like this too, shouldn’t you?"

“Shut up." 

Sirius didn't shut up, his grin growing even wider. “Maybe we could invite my little cousin for dinner, I’m sure Kreacher would be delighted." 

“Maybe Private Drive is alright," deadpanned Harry.

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, yeah." He passed an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Well, let’s get downstairs now, let’s show everyone what your _boyfriend_ got you. It’s a nice scarf, too bad he only bought it to sell you his House values." 

“These are _not_ the Slytherin colours,” pointed out Harry. “It’s not emerald, nor silver." 

“It’s _green_ , Harry.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “What did he buy it for, then? To _bring out your eyes_?"

Harry blinked and looked at the scarf again. It _was_ bottle green, the same colour he had worn for Yule and that Draco had commented on. _‘ Of course he remembered that,’_ thought Harry fondly, trying not to smile and keep a neutral expression. 

However, his attempts were fruitless and the grin on his godfather’s face only widened. “ _Are you serious_?” asked Sirius, breaking into a bark-like laugh when Harry didn’t say anything. “Oh, Godric, that’s-" 

“You know what? Privet Drive is just fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit late, but it's still Thursday here! Hope you liked the chapter, even if it was a short one! Kudos and comments are very much appreciated! I'll see you next update!


	17. January 15, Monday: Everything Is Fine!

The halls outside the Potions classroom weren’t fully lined yet, some students still taking advantage of the time remaining to hang out with their friends instead of waiting on the dungeons. As usual, the Slytherins looked perfectly comfortable leaning on the walls, one of them raising a pale eyebrow at Harry when he approached.

“I didn’t see you on the train back," said Draco. 

“Didn’t take it,” answered Harry. Tonks and Lupin had taken them back via the Knight Bus because Moody believed that seeing them return on the train after no one had seen them leave in the first place could raise questions. Of course, Harry couldn't say that. "How are you?" he asked while looking at the blond carefully. There was something off about him.

“Peachy." Draco glanced at his friends and then gave Harry an odd look. “Can I speak with you for a second?"

“Yeah, sure," said Harry. He exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione before following his boyfriend a bit further away from the group. Just enough for a conversation to be private. "Is everything alright?" 

Draco took a moment to answer, looking not at Harry but around the hallway. Whatever he wanted to say, it seemed he didn't want anyone to listen. “Not here, do we have a meeting planned tonight?"

“Oh, that." Harry felt relieved. He had thought it was something bad, but Draco probably just wanted to start with the Patronus. Unfortunately, Dumbledore and Snape had other plans for him, and Harry had to sigh.“No, I can’t tonight." 

That made Draco's eyes turn to him. "Why not?" There was confusion on his voice but also urgency. Was the Patronus really that important for him? Harry felt like he was missing something and then realised that he hadn't answered yet.

"Er, I have, uhm-" he scrambled for the lie Snape had told him to tell anyone that asked, "-Remedial Potions." 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “ _Remedial Potions,_ " he repeated. 

“Yes." 

“You do realise that this is the first Potions class after the holidays, right?” said Draco slowly, now frowning at him. “Unless you were somehow notified earlier, I doubt you have any Remedial Lessons." 

Shit. Perhaps Harry should have waited until after the class to say that. He grimaced. “Yeah, sorry, it’s not Remedial anything," he confessed. 

“Then?"

“I can’t tell you,” said Harry reluctantly, because if he said he had Occlumency lessons, he would then have to speak about the attack and a lot of other things he wasn’t supposed to talk about. "Sorry."

“You can’t tell me,” repeated Draco, sounding a bit too neutral. He seemed to ponder on the words, as if not understanding what they meant, before finally blinking in realisation. “Yes, of course, you can’t tell me."

“Sorry,” said Harry again, because something about the blond’s expression wasn’t right. 

Draco shook his head. “Nonsense, I understand." It really sounded like he meant it, but Harry wasn't convinced. 

“I’m sure we can start the meetings this week, though," he reassured.

“That’s good,” said Draco, giving him a smile that wasn’t very convincing. “How were the Holidays?"

Harry felt a bit puzzled but accepted the change of topic, "Quite good, thank you for the scarf." 

That seemed to relax Draco a bit, his smile growing bit more genuine. “I’m glad, Scarhead," he said, his silver gaze travelling towards the door behind Harry when they heard it open. “Ah, time to go in. Let’s go then." 

Harry stopped him by the arm. “Draco," he asked, eyes fixed on the other's face, "are you alright?"

Draco paused, looking at him carefully, for long enough that they became the only two people standing in the hall. Then he smiled, a small curve of his lips that didn't really reach his eyes. “Yes, everything’s fine." 

\---

Unlike Draco, every other member of the D.A that had approached Harry seemed to believe his excuse for not being able to hold a meeting that night. 

“You take Remedial Potions?” scoffed Zacharias disdainfully. “You must be _terrible_. Snape doesn’t usually give extra lessons, does he?"

Ron had wanted to hex him, but Harry was too busy worrying about the lesson he would have with Snape. He didn’t know what Occlumency really entailed, but if it could help him avoid more visions like the one he had, he _had_ to learn it. ' _If only it weren’t Snape,’_ thought Harry. He didn’t understand why Dumbledore couldn’t do it, but once again the Headmaster had been ignoring him all year. 

After their encounter with Smith, Ron and Harry made way to the Divination Tower. Trelawney was once again in a bad mood and only hissed at them to open up their books and start interpreting their dreams.

Harry looked at Ron across their small table. “Any dreams lately?"

“You?- Oh, right, sorry,” said Ron quickly. But then he hummed in consideration. “Mate, but maybe we could try to interpret your dreams?"

“You are kidding." 

“Like, not the one about my dad,” said Ron quietly, then shaking his head and shrugging. “But I don’t know, maybe it helps? We don’t have anything better to do, anyway." 

Harry sighed. Ron had a point, they had nothing better to do. “Fine. Then, last night I dreamt about moving down a hallway." 

“Were you a snake again?” asked Ron distractedly, checking their dream interpretation book. 

“I don’t think so?"

Ron nodded, skimming through the book until he reached a certain page. “Ah, alright, so hallways mean transition or change. Well, I guess that makes sense?"

“Does it?"

“Beats me." Ron grinned at him, and then went back to the book. "Now, was this a good hallway or a bad hallway?"

Harry frowned. “A what?"

“Because it says here that it could be a good change, or fear of change, like moving on after something bad happens.” Ron actually seemed invested now. “Or it could also be about going back to something after changing it." 

“Or maybe it’s just a hallway," proposed Harry. 

“Fine," huffed Ron. "What else was there?"

“A door, at the end of the hallway." Big and dark and always out of reach.

“Shouldn’t you have mentioned that earlier?" chastised Ron, letting out a sigh. "Alright, let me see,” he passed the pages of the book again. “Here it is. Doors also mean change. Harry, I think there’s a theme here." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Buildings?"

Ron ignored him. “Was the door open or closed?"

Despite not believing a word of what he was saying, that did manage to catch Harry's attention. “Closed, why?"

“Closed doors mean that there are things you can’t access, or that you have to do something first to do so. That’s kinda cool- Oh, but was it locked or just closed?"

Harry scrunched his nose. “I have no idea." 

“What are you two doing?” said a third voice. They looked up to find an irritated Trelawney looking down at them. From their position on the floor, the woman looked very tall and menacing.

Ron gulped. "Dream interpretation?” he offered, exchanging a look with Harry, who only shrugged.

Trelawney seemed surprised, probably because they usually slacked during her class. “What’s the dream, my child?" she asked in a rush, snatching the book from Ron's hand and scanning the page. She looked a bit more like her usual annoying self and Harry didn't like that. “Ah, a _door_." She walked around the classroom, humming to herself enigmatically. The change had not gone unnoticed by the classroom, at least by the awake students. Parvati and Lavender exchanged an excited look.

Harry glared at Ron. “If she says I’m going to die-." 

“Sorry, mate,” said Ron with a grimace. “But she always says that, right?"

“AH!” exclaimed Trelawney, making Ron jump and Harry ready himself for yet another death premonition. She pointed at Harry. “You, my child, I see misfortune in your way. Terrible things await." 

“Right, okay." It was the usual.

“Secrets will be kept from you! People will abandon you!"

Harry looked at Ron, the only one to blame here. “Hopefully." 

“Sorry, mate." 

Trelawney kept mumbling, to herself but loud enough to be heard by everyone, of course. “Closed off, shut away-" 

“But will I die?” cut in Harry, because at that point it was just routine. 

Trelawney looked at him sadly. “You will suffer." 

\---

The dungeons were empty as Harry made way to Snape’s office, which didn’t help to improve his mood. After listening to Trelawney’s delighted telling of his misfortune, and then Ron’s sheepish apologies, Harry wasn’t feeling very cheery.

 _‘And then there’s Draco.’_ The blond had been a bit quiet that day and despite his assurance that he wasn’t mad at all, Harry couldn’t help feeling like he was missing something big. 

Snape’s office resembled the classroom a lot, also surrounded by many fragile-looking bottles just waiting to fall on the floor and break. Snape told him to shut the door, and then started explaining what Occlumency was. 

“And why does Dumbledore think I need to learn it?” asked Harry, then adding, “Sir." 

“The Dark Lord is skilled in Legilimency, which as you probably don’t know, it’s the ability that lets you extract memories and feelings from another person’s mind-" 

Harry straightened up, “He can read minds?"

Snape seemed delighted to insult him and tell him that no, Legilimency wasn’t mind reading because the mind was complex and couldn't be opened like a book. But Harry didn’t really listen because it sounded an awful lot like mind-reading and he definitely didn’t like that. _‘What if he finds out about Draco?’_ though Harry in alarm, feeling sick at the sole idea. _‘What would happen then?’._

“You seem to have a connection of sorts with the Dark Lord, forged by the Killing Curse” continued Snape, eyeing him curiously. “Whenever your mind is vulnerable, for example when you are asleep, you have been sharing his emotions and thoughts-" 

“Has he been seeing mine?” interrupted Harry. “Sir?"

“Do not interrupt me, Potter,” hissed Snape. “We believe it’s only recently that he has noticed the connection, which means that no, he hasn’t been sharing your thoughts. But if he knows now, he could try to do so, which brings us to Occlumency." Snape stood up from his desk and took out his wand. “I’m going to attempt breaking into your mind, Potter, you can use your wand and try to defend yourself in any way." 

Harry stood up, taking his wand and not knowing what to do with it. 

“Brace yourself. _Legilimens_." 

Images raced in front of him. Being five and watching Dudley receiving gifts, being nine and chased by a dog, being eleven and sitting under the sorting hat, being twelve and watching Hermione lay on the hospital wing bed, being thirteen and watching dementors approach him, being fourteen and watching Draco smile at him at the owlery. _‘_

 _No way, no,’_ thought Harry, and sudden sharp pain on his knee made the images faint away. He was back at the office, kneeling on the floor as he had fallen. He looked up at Snape in alarm.

The man was rubbing his wrist and looking at him carefully. “Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?"

“No,” said Harry quickly, trying to read him. “Did you see what I saw?" 

"...flashes of it,” said Snape neutrally. He raised his wand again. “Remain focused, clear your mind and let go of all emotion." 

“We are doing it again?!" 

“ _Obviously_ , now, clear your mind." Snape didn't give him time to do so. “ _Legilimens_." 

The dragon from last year, a beetle on a jar, Parkinson threatening him, Lucius Malfoy’s face under a cloak, a dementor kissing Dudley, an unopened envelope on his desk, Mr Weasley walking with him by a hallway with dark floors and walls, a door at the end-

“I KNOW!” exclaimed Harry. He was back on the floor but barely registered it.

Snape was looking at him weirdly. “You know, what?"

“The Department of Mysteries,” said Harry, jumping back to his feet. “What is in the Department of Mysteries?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha..well! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Kudos and comments are very very appreciated! Especially the latter, I love hearing your thoughts! I'll see you in the next update!
> 
> PD: Just a little advertising, but in case you didn't know, this is the second part of a series! Please make sure to check the first part as well!


	18. February 10, Saturday: Brief Intermission and a Quidditch Match

January came and went quickly, along with bad news and loads of homework. After the Death Eater breakout from Azkaban that had shaken the magical community, the D.A members had become even more determined to learn. Which was good, but the breakout also gave place to an odd tension between the Slytherin members and the rest. Harry had been worried about a possible conflict, but the matter had been solved rather quickly by Zabini. 

On the first meeting they had, the boy had commented quite loudly how _poor_ the Ministry administration had to be to allow such a _terrible_ thing that no one could have predicted, all while making sure that Crabbe and Goyle nodded along. Harry was sure the boys had no real idea of what he was talking about, but it worked. 

Another problem that came with January had been the probation that Trelawney and Hagrid had been put on, because every single one of their classes was now supervised by Umbridge and her stupid pink clipboard.

On one hand, it meant that Trelawney was too busy giving hysterical talks on how she predicted nearly anything that happened during class, including the orders the students arrived, to tell Harry about his misfortune again. But in the other, it also meant that Hagrid was just as nervous during lessons. Despite not showing them dangerous creatures anymore, he didn’t seem to be faring well, looking jumpy and distracted during classes and always glancing anxiously at Umbridge.

It also meant that Draco and the Slytherins never approached Harry during class and that Umbridge usually hung around them asking them questions.

One class they had worked with crups, creatures that looked exactly like Jack Russell dogs with the exception of the split tail. The ones Hagrid had brought were young and quite small, definitely to reduce the risk even more. Harry had seen Umbridge’s cat-temple she called an office, so he wasn’t surprised when she sneered rather rudely at the crups. But then, as to prove what an awful human being she was, she had poked a white crup with her wand and made it float to examine it.

Hagrid’s face had blanched as the crup flailed desperately in the air, his big hands rising and twitching silently towards the crup but without reaching. It was clear that he wanted the woman to stop doing that, but was too anxious to say anything.

He, and the rest of the people present in the class, had blinked twice when an also paler-than-usual Draco suddenly extended his hands to grab the struggling creature from mid-air. The blond then looked at Umbridge with a smile and casually offered to hold _it_ for her, which seemed enough to make her drop her suspicious look.

Once she left, Draco left it on the ground and sighed. Parkinson whispered something at him and he snapped something back, something that sounded awfully like _‘It’s a crup, not a sodding ferret’._

\---

February finally arrived, bringing with it warmer weather and the restart of the Quidditch season. The day of the third match, Harry walked down the grounds along with Ron and Hermione, both of them wearing their scarlet scarfs, which only drew more attention to Harry's green one. 

"Mate, you're not going to sit with the Slytherins, are you?" asked Ron when Harry excused himself. 

Harry snorted. "And get thrown off the stands? No, thanks. I'm just going to wish him luck, I'll be right back." With that, he drifted away, towards the Slytherin team's changing rooms. It wasn't unusual for non-players to hang by the entrance before a match, so he wasn't really surprised when he ran into Parkinson and Luna. 

He took one look at the latter and smiled. "Not supporting Slytherin today?"

Parkinson grinned in amusement. "What gave her away?" 

Luna shook her head, making the Eagle on top of her hat wobble along. "Not today, but if you want my Slytherin hat I could bring it for you." 

"Oh, no, don't worry," said Harry quickly. Not only was the hat ridiculous, but if he went with that to the Gryffindor stands he would be sent to the Hospital Wing in a heartbeat, either out of concern or outrage. "But thank you for the offer."

"Not even wearing a hat for me? How cruel, Potter." The green curtains were pulled to the side as Draco walked out of the changing rooms, dressed in his emerald and black Quidditch robes. They suited him rather well, like the grin that curled up his lips. "My teammates are concerned about having spies out here," continued Draco, raising an eyebrow at the three of them. "Maybe speak a bit lower."

Luna smiled dreamily. "We were just here to wish you good luck."

"You do know I'm playing your house, right?" 

"Precisely why I wish you luck," said Luna solemnly.

"Cheeky," said Draco, then turning towards Parkinson and raising his chin. "And you?"

The girl gave him a mischievous grin. "I'm just here to ask you about Vincent's swing."

Draco grinned back. "Strong as usual. And his aim is quite good too."

"Perfect." Parkinson nodded at him and locked arms with Luna. "I'll see you then, try not to fall off your broom," she added over her shoulder, making Draco roll his eyes before turning towards Harry with a smile.

"And what are _you_ doing here?"

"To ask about Vincent's swing?"

"Really?" Draco cocked his head to the side and smirked. "Well, you tell me."

Harry shrugged. "Not that strong."

"But enough to knock you off your broom," pointed out Draco.

"Git." Harry smiled at him. "Good luck."

Draco licked his lips and smiled back. "I don't _need_ luck, Potter," he said as he raised his hands, "I have _these_." He was wearing the gloves Harry had bought him for Christmas. He had seen them while looking for a compass for Ron's broom and thought they could be a good gift for the blonde.

"You liked them, then?" asked Harry, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Draco blinked at that. "I didn't tell you?" he asked, sounding surprised. "I'm sorry, I must have been a bit distracted." 

"It's fine." Harry waved a hand in dismissal and gave him a smile. In all honesty, he had forgotten about the matter too, since he had been worrying about other things, like the dreams or the breakout. "I'm just glad to see you like them. I wasn't really sure." 

"No, it's not fine," said Draco. His silver eyes glanced around their empty surroundings before he leaned forwards to give Harry a quick kiss. It was short and gentle, like the smile he gave him afterwards. "I do like them. Thank you, Harry," he said and then grinned at him. "By the way, who gave you that scarf? It looks good on you." 

Harry smiled. "A git, I like him a lot." 

"Charming," mused Draco. He let out a sigh and went back to the entrance, standing by it to shoo Harry away with his hand. "Now go, Scarhead, but you better cheer on me."

"I will," promised Harry, watching him disappear inside the changing rooms once again. 

\---

The silver and green crowd cheered as Warrington's goal made it pass the right hoop, brushing the Ravenclaw keeper's head. Warrington scores! That's thirty-forty for Ravenclaw!" came Lee's voice. "Chambers has the Quaffle now, and he- _OUCH_."

Harry and the entire Gryffindor crowd grimaced as a Bludger made contact with the Chaser's stomach, sending him tumbling down. "That's quite a swing from Crabbe, new Beater for Slytherin." The silver and green crowd cheered again. "Well, Chambers is out of the game, poor guy- _Anyway_ , Quaffle is back to Slytherin." 

Harry stopped listening, once again looking at Draco. His blond hair gleamed under the sun as he rounded the field, closely followed by an astute Cho. 

"Davies scores!” exclaimed Lee. “That is fifty-thirty to Ravenclaw!"

Harry saw Draco fly past Crabbe, pausing for a short second, so brief it would be easily missed if one hadn’t been staring at him. 

"Quaffle is back on Slytherin hands!"

Harry could tell he had seen it the same moment Draco did, the small golden glint at one side of the field. 

"And- Malfoy is on the move! Is it the snitch? Chang follows just behind!"

The Bludger made another turn, and Crabbe intercepted it, arm swinging back-

"The Seekers take a turn! They are neck to neck now! Looks like the snitch- MERLIN’S PANTS! That was a close one!"

It had passed just before Cho’s nose, making her halt harshly and almost lose her grip on the broom, not causing any damage but serving its purpose.

"Malfoy has the snitch!” exclaimed Lee, voice raised to not be drowned by the cheers of the Slytherin crowd and one Gryffindor, as Draco raised his gloved fist, showing the struggling wings. “That's one hundred eighty - fifty for Slytherin! They have won! And I owe several people galleons now..."

"Yeah!" cheered Harry, clapping loudly. He turned to his friends with a wide smile. "Brilliant. Isn't he brilliant?"

Ron gulped. "I'm just glad we are not playing against Slytherin anymore. That looked like it hurt."

"Chambers will be fine," shrugged Harry, eyes back on the field as Draco was dragged into a celebration by his teammates. He was beaming, laughing as Crabbe smacked him and Goyle shoved both of them. Harry came to find himself feeling happy at a Slytherin win for the first time ever, discovering that it wasn't hard at all.

\---

"You were brilliant," said Harry as soon as Draco joined him by the entrance of the field. The blond had been the last one to leave the changing rooms, probably to make sure no one was around to bother them. "Just _brilliant_. Did you tell Crabbe how to aim?"

Draco beamed at him. "Just the timing, Vincent really has quite a swing. We are training Greg too."

"Your idea?"

"Of course." Draco reached out to hold the end of Harry's scarf, looking at it thoughtfully before his eyes flickered back to Harry's. "Green really suits you."

“Winning suits you,” said Harry. He then circled one arm around him and sighed sadly. “Shame you can’t do it more often." 

Draco immediately frowned at him. “You are a git,” he deadpanned. "I’ll beat you next year, you will see." 

“Sure, there’s always next year." Harry grinned at him. "And then the next one, and the next-" 

Draco shoved him but Harry refused to let go, instead pulling him closer and peppering his cheek with kisses until he started laughing, his hands holding onto Harry’s shoulder as he did so. Harry looked at him, taking in the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the slight trembling of his shoulders and his exposed throat. Once he sobered up, Draco looked at Harry fondly, one hand rising to cup his face, warm and gentle like his eyes.

“I really like you," blurted Harry.

Draco blinked at him, smile faltering as something unreadable flashed on his silver eyes. It was something that Harry felt he had seen before, but couldn’t point out when, and it made him stop smiling too. “Draco?” he asked carefully. “Is there something wrong?"

The blond stared at him a bit longer, taking Harry by surprise when he threw his arms around his neck, making Harry hold him tighter to not lose balance. His face was hidden in Harry’s shoulder now, muffling his voice as he answered.

"It's nothing." 

\---

It was late when Harry walked into the common room, feeling as if something was once again escaping him. He sat on the couch next to his friends, their chatter background noise as he tried to put his thoughts in order. There was something bothering Draco, he was sure of that. The issue was _what_ it was. 

_'Why can't he just tell me?'_ thought Harry, gaze moving to where Hermione was doing her homework, a complicated looking chart that reminded him of something. "Nott." 

Hermione looked up at him. "Not what?"

"No, not Not. _Nott_ ," said Harry, gesturing frantically. He leaned forwards on his chair and narrowed his eyes at the girl. "What do you know about him?"

She let out a sigh and went back to her chart. "I already told you you should leave it," she said sternly. "If he isn't telling you it must be for a reason." Harry scrunched his nose, and Hermione must have a sixth sense because she immediately looked up again and gave him a chiding look. "You have to respect that, Harry." 

"Fine," sighed Harry. _'I won't say anything to you, then'_

Ron noticed his expression and shook his head in amusement. "Mate, instead of worrying about that, shouldn't you be worrying about next week?"

"Next week? Why- It's Valentines, isn't it?"

"Yup, it falls on Wednesday but we do have a Hogsmeade outing on Saturday," Ron grinned at him, "So maybe you can take him to that horrible little tea shop like all good boyfriends do." 

Harry snorted. "Right, I'll do that and let him know you suggested that." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot that its Thursday, so I'm late oops! Hope you liked the chapter! As usual, kudos and comments are very very appreciated! See you on Monday!
> 
> Also, I have this headcanon that Draco became a bit more emphatic towards small animals after his experience as a ferret, so that crup episode gave him a flashback haha.


	19. February 14, Wednesday: Toffees and Truffles

The Requirement Room had not been decorated with pink flowers, red hearts or anything of the sort, but that didn't stop some of the D.A members from celebrating Valentine's.

"We need to kick out the Slytherins," muttered Ernie, arms crossed over his chest. The rest of the group that had congregated on one side of the room and kept glaring at the rest of it shared nods of agreement.

"Why?" asked Goyle in confusion, he and Crabbe also stood with the group, although Harry was quite sure that they didn't know _why_ they were standing there.

"Alright, maybe not all Slytherins," conceded Dean, then pointing a finger at the centre of the room, "But definitely _that_ one." Next to him, Ron nodded, scowl deepening when yet another set of giggles drifted from across the room. 

"Oh, is this for me?" asked Zabini, accepting yet another box of chocolates, this time from a blushing Parvati. "Thank you very much, darling," he said with a charming smile that set off another batch of giggles. Parvati sighed and returned next to Lavender to share a silent squeal while a determined Ravenclaw fourth-year approached Zabini to deliver her present. Her Slytherin friend, who had been brought in after Christmas, shook her head in resignation. 

"Do you think he will share?" asked Crabbe, scratching his chin in deep thought. "I see some Peppermint Toads and I really like those." 

Neville sighed dejectedly. "Hannah gave him some too."

It was clear to Harry that the class wouldn't settle again, not when there were other five girls and three boys with chocolate boxes just waiting for Zabini to look at them, so he turned to exchange an exasperated look with Hermione. "How are we on the schedule?"

"We are advancing quite well, so don't worry." Hermione glanced up at the clock and hummed. "No much time left anyway." 

Harry nodded and looked at the room again, snorting when he found the boys sending daggers at Zabini when a nervous Katie gave him a box of sweets. Ignoring the rest, Cho and Cedric were talking to each other by a corner, happily sharing a box of chocolates that the boy had brought looking the perfect picture of a sappy couple. 

Cho's friend, whose name was something along the lines of Mariella, had wisely chosen not to stand near them and instead frowned at everyone else from another corner. She didn't look happy at all.

"So what are you going to do today?" asked Hermione, bringing Harry's attention back to her. She gave him a sly smile. "First Valentine's and all." 

Harry rubbed his neck. "Well, we are actually just going to practice Defense, I think," he said, eyes darting to where his bag was, the small package of toffees he had bought well hidden inside. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to duel him for Valentine's?"

"Nope, but that's a great suggestion."

"Then Reducto?" Hermione glanced at the little piles of dust around the room, the only remains of the mechanic dummies the members had destroyed that day. Of course, Harry hadn't used those dummies when practising Reducto with Draco, _never the dummies_ , and the Room had provided a set of vases, for some reason.

Harry licked his lips. "Patronus, actually." 

"WHAT?" The entire room turned to look at them at Hermione's outburst and the girl just gave them a polite nod that made Harry snort. She glared at him and cleared her throat. "I mean, _why_ are you not following the schedule?" she said, which meant _'Why are you not following my schedule?'_

"Because he is a quick learner." Harry smiled calmly. "You know how smart he is." 

Hermione wasn't convinced. "The Patronus was set for April, Harry, we are in March. Unless you skipped an entire month-" She paused on her words, pursing her lips and giving him a disapproving look. "He asked you, didn't he?"

Harry hummed.

"Honestly, Harry." Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation, then crossing her arms and shaking her head at him. However, when she spoke there was clear amusement in her voice. "He just bats his eyelashes and you go with his every whim."

"That's not true," said Harry, despite it being mostly true. He glanced up at the ceiling and mumbled, "But he does have pretty eyelashes."

" _Harry_."

Harry chuckled. "I know, it's just that I like doing things for him, or making him laugh-" Was he being sappy now? He didn't care, it was true. "I like seeing him happy, Hermione. He has _such_ a pretty smile." 

"Yes, Harry, you have told me," said Hermione patiently, in a tone that made obvious she was rolling her eyes again. "Now stop swooning." 

"Just so you know, I'll complain too when you and Ron-" 

"What?!" 

Harry looked back at her, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Like eventually, right?" he said, not sure why she seemed so worked up by the idea.

Hermione's face was starting to turn red now, as she moved her hands as if gesturing at Harry to stop. "No, it's not like that-" she spluttered, her voice slightly rising. "I don't know where you would get that idea. I certainly don't-" 

"Of course you will," said Harry reassuringly. She was a great girl, she would definitely find someone good too. Unless she didn't want to. Harry blinked. "Unless you don't want to date anyone at all, that's fine too." 

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, looking a bit like a fish out of water, and then gave Harry a strange look. "You meant when Ron and I start dating someone, right?" she said slowly.

"Yeah?" said Harry, feeling lost. "What did you think I was talking about?"

" _Nothing_ ," sighed Hermione, looking away briefly before smiling at him. "But no, even then I definitely wouldn't act like you. You are just a lost cause." Another set of giggles came from the centre of the room, and Harry and Hermione looked back at the group again. "How is he going to carry all that?" mused Hermione.

Harry shrugged, watching as Zabini received a box from an amused Fay. "I guess we can only wait and see." 

\---

It turned out that Zabini asked the other Slytherins to help carry the boxes, and from the joyful expression of Crabbe and Goyle, it was probable that he would ask for help eating them as well. "He doesn't even like chocolate," mumbled Parkinson as she passed by Harry carrying three boxes. 

He laughed, then pointing at one of them. "Don't eat those, I think they are from Fred and George." 

The answering grin told him that she had understood and that she would use that information however she pleased, which was a frightening prospect.

 _'I'm warning Draco,'_ told himself Harry, glancing at the clock as the last group departed. Just as he was about to check the map, the doors opened, effectively startling him into hiding the box of toffees behind him.

"Hi, Scarhead," greeted Draco brightly, walking in with a dark box on his hands, which he raised a bit as if to show him, "You are going to like this." He promptly crossed the room towards the pile of cushions, throwing two on the floor and sitting on one gracefully, legs crossed and box over his lap. He looked up at Harry and grinned. "Well, don't just stand there,” he said, patting the cushion next to his. "Sit." 

"Yes, sir," said Harry, being careful to not step on the small remains of mechanical dummies as walked towards him. He let himself plop down on the cushion and scooted closer until their knees touched, watching as Draco undid the lace of the rather fancy looking box. “What is that?"

"I asked my mother to send me these for today," said Draco happily, opening it to reveal a dozen of small chocolates in different shapes.

Harry had seen truffles before, delivered to his aunt by his uncle quite often, always shared with Dudley and obviously never with him, but these looked _better_ , the shapes and confections more intricate, like little dark jewels.

_‘And here I am with Honeydukes toffees.'_

Unaware of Harry’s dismay, Draco picked out one truffle covered with dark powder, then turning to Harry with a smile and raising it to his lips in a silent offer. Harry blinked, accepting it without taking his eyes off Draco, which meant that the instant grimace he made wasn’t lost to the other.

“It’s good,” said Harry around the incredibly bitter thing.

He was surprised when Draco grinned instead of being offended by his obvious lie. “Just bite it,” said the blond, chuckling when Harry raised an eyebrow. “Trust me."

Harry really didn’t want to do that, the bitter dust tasted almost like coffee and seemed like a warning for whatever was below it, but Draco was looking at him expectantly so Harry summoned his Gryffindor bravery and sank his teeth on it.

Sweet. The incredible sweetness of rich caramel broke through the awful bitterness of the outside, then mixing into a devastatingly good combination.

“Oh, it‘s _good_." 

Draco scrunched his nose. “Don’t speak with your mouth full," he chastised, then switching to a bright smile and looking very pleased with himself. “And of course it’s good, _I_ told you you would like it." 

And he had been right, it was probably the best thing Harry had eaten, the rich flavour lingering on his mouth even after he passed it down. He looked greedily at the rest of the truffles. “Are they all like this one?"

“No,” said Draco, grinning as he closed the box before Harry’s fingers could reach it. “But you will find that for yourself later,” he added, placing the box on Harry’s hand. 

Harry blinked. “You are giving me the entire box?"

“Obviously.” Draco wiped the chocolate dust from his fingers on the cushion without looking at Harry, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “It’s tradition, after all." 

_‘Why is this so embarrassing suddenly?’_ though Harry, looking at the ceiling as he felt his face heat up again. He had seen people exchanging sweets all day with distant amusement, nodding to Ron’s complaints about it, but now that he was doing so himself it felt ridiculously good, like the truffle itself. 

“Thank you,” he said, entirely conscious of the dumb smile he had on his face as he looked at Draco again. “But where are my flowers?"

Draco huffed humorously. “Where are mine?"

There was a silence as Harry left the box next to his cushion carefully in order to grab the one he had brought. “Not flowers, but I know you like toffees, so, well...” said Harry lamely, giving him the pale green box. He glanced at the ceiling again, knowing it wasn’t enough. _‘I should have brought him at least ten, and an entire garden’._

The sound of it being opened made him look down, finding Draco already undoing the golden wrapping of one of them. “I don’t usually eat them, because my parents think they will ruin my teeth,” commented Draco, raising the brown sweet to his lips and smiling. “But I do like them a lot, so thank you,” he added, biting the toffee in half with definitely not ruined teeth. 

Draco chewed slowly, his delighted expression turning a bit embarrassed when Harry kept looking at him. “Sorry,” he said after he finished, offering the other half to Harry. “Here." 

Silence stretched for the second it took Harry to lean in, place a hand on the cushion to balance himself and kiss him.

The lingering flavour of the toffee was sweet, tasting even sweeter when Draco parted his lips, one hand resting on the back of Harry’s head as he kissed him back. It was a sweet, warm heat that made Harry’s head feel light, and he leaned closer, wanting to get a better taste, occurring to him that it was better than any candy. But then the other lips were backing away, making Harry chase them down, not realizing where he was going until the hand on the back of his head seemed to pull him down. The kiss broke as they lost balance and fell, Harry’s hands on either side of Draco, who blinked up at him, pale hair like a white halo against the blue cushion. 

Feeling his face way too warm, Harry mumbled an apology and made to move back, being stopped by a hand on his jaw that pulled him down into another kiss, then angling his face to deepen it. It was different than kissing against a shelf, because he felt like he could lean ever further, and Harry did so, trailing the sweetness on the other’s lips until the air left him.

They stared at each other while recovering their breath, Harry basking in the shine over Draco’s lips and then the smile he cracked before speaking to him, “Get off me, you oaf." 

“ _Oaf_?” laughed Harry, sitting back on his cushion. “That’s a bit rude." 

Draco straightened up, passing a hand through his hair to fix it again. “Not as rude as pushing me down." 

“I didn’t do that,” mumbled Harry, feeling his blood rush as the idea crossed his head. He stood up quickly, extending a hand to a startled Draco with an embarrassed smile. “Er, Defense?"

\---

The white stag ran around the room again, Draco’s eyes leaving Harry to follow it’s throttling, then returning to him in a glare.

“There’s no need to show off." 

“I’m not showing off,” said Harry in amusement. “I’m just showing you how to do it." 

“Show off,” repeated Draco. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a long sigh. “This is a bit tiring, isn’t it?"

Harry felt a pang of alarm at that. Casting a Patronus could be quite draining, even without a Dementor around, since it required a lot of positive energy. He walked a bit closer, studying the other for any signs of exhaustion. “Do you want to sit down?" 

Draco snorted. “I’m not going to faint, Harry,” he said, looking at him again with a smile. “Besides, I didn’t mean tiring physically, just the memory thing." 

“Ah,” let out Harry, feeling relieved. “Yes, that’s quite frustrating. I went through like five until I found one that worked, and that was just for the non-corporeal form."

“Well, at least I got that one,” muttered Draco, frowning at his wand as if it were its fault that the silvery mist he cast never seemed to agree on a form. The hawthorn wand obviously didn’t do anything under the glare, but Harry still felt a bit bad for it.

“Perhaps you should try another one.” Harry eyed the stag as it stopped its throttling and vanished in a thin cloud. “A happier one." 

Draco huffed. “I know that, but it’s not that easy when you don’t know how-" He paused, looking at the empty space the stag had left and then at Harry. “Cast it again." 

“Why?” asked Harry with a grin. "Want me to show off?"

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" Draco placed on hand on his hip and raised the other to his chin. “It’s easier to cast it once you have done it before, right?"

“Well, yes." 

Draco gestured at him to continue. "Why?"

“Well,” started Harry, feeling a bit puzzled. “Because I already know how it has to go, like how it has to feel-" Harry blinked at the realization. “That’s brilliant." 

“ _I’m_ brilliant, Scarhead." 

Harry rolled his eyes, taking one look at Draco’s proud grin and raising his wand. “ _Expecto Patronum_."

The stag came forth again, giving a throttle around the room before stopping near them, as if aware of their presence now. It was big, tall and imposing even in its misty appearance as its non-defined eyes looked at them.

“It’s not a hippogriff,” jabbed Harry when Draco dubiously raised a hand towards its head, but part of him shared the uncertainty. It felt private.

“Shut up,” mumbled Draco, falling quiet when his pale hand passed through the silvery mist, not dissolving the form but enveloping his hand on the silver light. He rubbed his fingers as if feeling the fabric of something. “It’s warm." 

Harry nodded, gesture pointless because Draco’s attention was solely focused on the silver stag as if it were telling him a very important secret. Harry shuffled on his feet, nervous but transfixed by the odd scene, and the way the light seemed to reflect on Draco’s eyes. 

Then Draco lowered his hand slowly, the stag taking it as permission to vanish in a thin cloud without a sound. The blond didn’t stop looking at the spot, wordlessly taking out his wand, a slight tremble on his arm.

“Did you remember something else?” asked Harry, not able to stop himself.

“No, not really.” Draco gave him an odd look. “I had thought about it before." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Then why didn’t you try it?"

“Because it was ridiculous,” said Draco, passing a hand through his hair and sighing. “It _is_ ridiculous." 

“Well, try it." 

Draco looked as if he might refuse for a short second, then raising his wand with a trembling arm and pointing at the empty space of the room. Like the many times he tried before, he took a deep breath, letting his shoulders relax, his arm and voice steady when he spoke, “ _Expecto Patronum_." 

Silver light poured from the end of his wand, stronger than before and startling both of them when instead of growing in a wide circle, it moved away, making a slow circle around the room as it took form.

The first thing Harry noticed was the size, because he could only compare it to his stag, and this one was definitely smaller. It didn’t throttle either, its pace slow in a graceful strut, a long feathery tail behind it, opening into a wide fan as it stopped. 

“A _peacock_ ,” he said, turning to smile at Draco in excitement. “You did it!"

Draco was staring ahead, looking perplexed. “It worked,” he whispered as if in realisation, then hiding his mouth behind a hand. “Merlin, I _am_ ridiculous." 

“But you did it!” laughed Harry, pulling him into a side hug and kissing his cheek, pride swelling on his chest. “A corporeal Patronus, Draco!"

They stood there, looking as the bird made another circle around the room, majestic and unbothered by its surroundings. A very regal animal that suited Draco perfectly. “It’s an albino,” said Draco, then rolling his eyes when Harry looked at him doubtfully. “I know all Patronuses are white, but I’m sure that this one is an albino." He brought a hand to Harry’s hair, threading through it gently. “We have those at home." 

“Why?” asked Harry, despite not being surprised at all. _‘Because Heaven forbid the Malfoys from having something normal, like a dog’._

Draco grinned at him. “Because they are beautiful,” he said, then humming in consideration. “Albeit a _bit_ hostile if approached the wrong way." 

“Did you call them chickens?” asked Harry, laughing when Draco glared at him. “How do you approach them the wrong way, then?"

“By not being my father. Which is why I just look at them from the distance, lest I want my face scratched." 

Harry looked at him seriously. “That would be a tragedy."

“You are surprisingly superficial.” Despite his words, Draco smiled smugly. “But yes, it would be. And there have been incidents before, so only my father tends to them."

The image of Lucius Malfoy wearing a farm hat popped in Harry’s head, making him snort and then bite his lip to repress a laugh. “Did they pick out the eyes of a guest or something?"

“Not the _guests_ , no,” started Draco with a malicious grin, then stopping himself. He cleared his throat and smiled innocently. “But that’s not important, love. Keep telling me how brilliant I am." 

"You know," Harry gave him a thoughtful look, “Your Patronus _really_ suits you." 

“Are you calling me vain?"

“Just a _little._ ” Harry grinned at his offended boyfriend. “But you have every right to be, I think."

His eyes flickered to a corner of the room, where the peacock had stopped once again, with its tail opened like a silver fan. The bird started to vanish under his watch, the white mist thinning into nothingness, but before it was fully gone, warm hands cupped Harry’s face and turned it towards a long kiss. 

“You are ridiculous,” whispered Draco against his lips. His eyes were bright and mesmerizing, and all Harry could see until Draco pulled back to give him a white grin. “It wouldn’t hurt you to do it as well, you know."

Harry smiled. “Be vain?”

“Proud, Harry,” said Draco, hands dropping to squeeze his shoulders. “You should be more proud, there are plenty of reasons. For example-” he poked at Harry’s chest with a finger “-you helped me cast a Patronus today."

Harry shook his head. “That was mostly you. I mean, I hadn’t thought about using the Patronus like that." 

Still, he didn’t think he would use it with the rest. He had come to realize how awfully personal a Patronus could be, and he wouldn’t let just anyone feel it. Draco was definitely alright, and Ron and Hermione would be fine too, but someone like Zacharias Smith? 

He shivered.

Next to him, Draco let out a sigh, then stepping back to stare at the empty spot the Patronus had left as if looking for any remains of its presence. Which reminded Harry of something. 

“What did you think about?"

Draco turned to look at him as if confused, raising an eyebrow as if there was something wrong with the question. 

“For the Patronus?” clarified Harry. He felt terribly curious about it, especially after Draco had only called the memory ridiculous. Perhaps it was riding a broom for the first time? Harry had tried that one with Lupin and the man hadn't approved. 

Draco blinked at him and repeated the question slowly, “What did I think about?" He glanced up at the ceiling, humming in consideration. “I wonder." 

Moments passed by, Harry drumming his fingers against each other, wondering if he had asked something too personal.

“Well,” said Draco finally, calling his attention back to him. He let out another sigh, dropped his gaze from the ceiling to Harry and flashed him an enigmatic white grin. “That’s for me to know, and for you to find out, isn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right you are getting 2 Valentine dates, this one and the next chapter! Let's see which date you end up liking the most haha
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! As always, kudos and comments are very appreciated! I'll see you on Thursday!


	20. February 17, Saturday: An Eventful Date

Harry was waiting by the entrance to Hogsmeade, drumming his fingers against the short stone wall that ran all along the path to the castle. It was a very cold day and he couldn’t wait to get inside any shop. He glanced up and smiled when he saw Draco approaching, dressed in black from his shoes to his gloved hands, in deep contrast to the paleness of his hair, eyes and face. The only touch of colour on him was his blue scarf, that seemed to brighten his eyes when he smiled back at Harry, and also when he blinked as he noticed something else.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Tell me he is not coming with us." 

“Wouldn’t want to interrupt your silly date,” jabbed Ron, parting from the wall with a groan. He stretched and gave Draco a serious look. “And by that, I mean that I’d rather die than be caught between your flirting again." 

Harry grinned at that. “There will be plenty of that."

“That’s what I expect, yes,” said Draco, accepting the hand Harry offered him with a pleased smile. “No less than plenty." 

Ron gagged. “You already started. _Merlin_." He raised his hands in defeat. “Whatever, I’m out then. See ya- Ah!" His retreat was stopped by the arrival of another group of people, one of them throwing an arm around Ron’s shoulders in a rough way that Harry had learned wasn’t always malicious, but playful. 

“Come with us, Weasley,” said Goyle energetically, shaking the ginger a bit more. Even while doing so lightly, he still managed to make Ron shake like a leaf in the middle of a storm. “We don’t have dates either." 

"What?" gaped Ron.

Crabbe nodded. “We are thinking about going to Honeydukes," he raised a stubby hand to scratch his chin in a thoughtful manner, "but there’s also that tea shop that sells pastries." 

As Goyle told Crabbe what he thought about the plans and Ron kept spluttering in surprise, from the corner of his eyes Harry spotted Theodore Nott giving their little group a dark look that went unnoticed by them, then walking away with a neutral-as-usual Zabini. Blaise spotted Harry and raised his eyebrows slightly, something that could be either interpreted as a greeting or a 'What is this guy's problem?'

Harry had no idea. He had begun to notice Nott more, in the same way he had kept an eye out for Snape during his first year, but came up with nothing important. All he knew about Nott is that he was the only member of Draco’s group that never approached Harry when Draco did or even talked to him in any way. He was also the only one that hadn’t join the D.A, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was because he had rejected the offer or because he hadn’t been offered in the first place.

But what he was sure about was that Nott wasn’t pleased about Harry, Ron or Hermione at all, while the rest of the Slytherins seemed to have accepted them. Of course, Parkinson was reluctant and sneered at them any chance she got and Zabini seemed to have taken them in as some inner joke with himself, but they were trying. Nott, on the other hand, looked as eager to breathe in their same direction as to jump off the Astronomy Tower.

Despite that, Nott was never left alone. Even when he walked away like now, or when he kept to his spot during class, there was always someone with him. Always. And no one seemed angry about his displeasure. Not even Draco had raised a complaint about his attitude. 

Everyone knew Slytherins were cunning, clever and self-serving; all menacing concepts that made one think their steps twice around them. But something that hadn’t been noticed as much, and Harry now thought was most unsettling about a Slytherin, was the solid presence of another one next to them.

 _'I don't think I've ever seen any Slytherin fight with another one,'_ thought Harry, then scrunching his nose. _'Besides Nott and Draco’._

But even that hadn’t looked as more than an argument and Harry had seen them talk after that, as if nothing had happened. And that was odd because, for example, Seamus hadn’t said a word to Harry since the start of the year. Not that Harry had wanted to talk to him either, that is. _‘Because I don’t care,’_ explained Harry to himself. _‘Or is it because I know I’m right?’._

“Don’t think too much, Scarhead,” said Draco, bringing Harry’s attention back to him. They were alone again, and Harry suspected that Ron had been successfully snatched away by Crabbe and Goyle. Draco was looking at him with concern. “You will hurt your head."

Harry snorted. “I’ll be careful." He looked down at Draco’s hand, still on his hold, and squeezed it, then looking at him again. Draco raised a questioning eyebrow and Harry smiled. “I was just wondering, are snakes social creatures?"

Draco just looked at him for a moment before furrowing his eyebrows in concern. This time it looked real. “Did you _actually_ hurt your head, Harry?"

“Humour me. Or is it that you don’t know?"

“I have better things to do with my time than inform myself on the social nature of common creatures."

Harry sighed sadly. “So you don’t know. Shame." 

“You don’t know either,” protested Draco, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh at how easy it was to rile him up sometimes. “Why were you thinking about that, anyway?” continued Draco. “Thinking about becoming a Magizoologist?"

“Are snakes considered magical creatures?"

For a moment Draco only gave him an odd look, as if confused by the question and then by Harry himself. Then he hummed. “Sometimes I forget there are things you don’t know,” he said softly, as if thinking aloud. 

“I was raised as a muggle. I didn’t even know I was a wizard until I received my letter.” Harry smiled, opening his mouth to tell him about the raining letters and Hagrid's apparition. But that would involve telling him about the Dursleys taking away the letters too. 

He hadn’t told Draco much about the Dursleys. Only that they were muggles and that Dudley was a pain in the ass. Harry didn’t want to give him more reasons to dislike muggles and telling him that his uncles hated magic and locked him in a cupboard would be one hell of a reason. And it was also pathetic, and Harry didn’t want him to feel pity. 

“My uncles didn’t know anything about magic so neither did I,” he said instead.

Draco tilted his head. “But surely you had some cases of accidental magic before that, right? All wizards exhibit their potential before the age of seven.” 

“Shrunk an awful looking sweater my aunt tried to give me. Turned my teacher’s hair blue-" 

“What type of blue?”

Harry paused to consider, then gave up. “I don’t know.” He looked at Draco’s blue scarf and reached to tug its end. “It was brighter than this one, and unlike you, blue wasn’t her colour.”

“Every colour is my colour,” said Draco haughtily. From the smile on his face and the slight raise of his chin, Harry could tell he was terribly pleased by that comment. Harry was reminded of his Patronus and smiled, it was sort of endearing. “Well, what else did you do? Besides giving your teacher a makeover.”

“My aunt cut my hair terribly once,” said Harry. Petunia had chased him around the house with scissors for an hour before capturing him. Still, her efforts were for nought. “It grew back overnight.”

Draco grinned, eyes flickering to Harry's hair. “Of course it did. Only magic can tame that beast,” he said, reaching up to fix said beast a bit. “What else?”

“Ended up on a roof,” continued Harry, not mentioning he had been running away from Dudley and his friends. The next one he remembered was still funny to him after all these years, so he looked at Draco with a grin. “And threw a boa at my cousin.”

“A boa?” Draco looked confused. “You mean you conjured a boa constrictor?”

Harry snorted. “No, I just vanished the glass of his enclosure at the zoo.”

“The zoo?” repeated Draco. 

Apparently, Wizards didn’t have zoos. Harry scrunched his nose, once again looking for the best way to afront the hard task that was explaining a muggle concept to a pureblood wizard. “It’s a place where muggles keep animals”

“Like a reserve?”

“Not exactly. Zoos are in the cities, and the animals are usually kept on small enclosures for people to see.”

Draco hummed. “What sort of animals?." 

“The usual; snakes, birds, lions-”

“ _Lions_ ?” repeated Draco in disbelief. “Muggles keep _lions_ behind their non-magical glass?”

Harry laughed. “No, lions are usually kept behind bars,” he explained patiently. “Snakes and smaller animals are kept behind glass, but it’s a very strong kind.”

“I see.” Draco looked as if he wanted to ask more, but then seemed to remember that they were talking about _muggles_ of all things _._ He cleared his throat, his voice then going back to sounding haughty. “And you vanished the glass and released the snake.”

“That I did.” Harry smiled. “He was very polite, you know. I wonder how he is doing now.”

Draco looked at him oddly for a second. “Ah,” he let out after. “You meant the snake, I thought you meant your cousin. Of course you talked to it." He shook his head in amusement. “Well, that brings us back to our topic. I’ll tell you what I know, but not here,” he shivered, “I’m freezing.”

“Let’s get out of here. Or inside somewhere, I guess.” Harry tugged at his hand to start walking towards the village. “Where would you like to go?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” answered Draco looking ahead. “What better place to celebrate Valentines than Madam Puddifoot's?” He glanced sideways at Harry and snickered at his expression. “Look at your face, I was just joking. I’d rather go visit your _dog_ again than step in that cursed place.”

Harry snorted. “Don’t worry, there won’t be any more visits in the near future,” he said, thinking back to that particular trainwreck. An idea popped up in his head. “You know,” he added, keeping an eye on Draco. “The cave is still open." 

“Charming offer,” deadpanned Draco, a tint of his cheeks Harry knew wasn't just because of the cold. “But I stand for what I said then, and I feel like having a Butterbear right now.”

“Then later,” joked Harry, laughing when Draco frowned at him. “By the way,” he added, turning his gaze to examine the village as they crossed it, just in case a certain horrid woman dressed in pink popped up. “What about you? Any accidental magic?”

“Just a few incidents. I have always been mature for my age.”

"Sure."

“The first one that jumps to mind,” said Draco, pointedly ignoring Harry’s disbelief. “Is when I got upset at my father because he wouldn’t buy me a new broom.”

“Did you turn his hair blue?” ' _Please say yes.'_

Draco chuckled. “No. I just set the old one on fire...along with the broomshed," his voice turned smug, "Got a new one the very next day."

 _‘Of course you did,’_ thought Harry, turning to look at his boyfriend and the proud smile and the tilt of his chin that always accompanied that tone of voice. What he saw made him pause both physically and mentally, his own smile dropping.

As expected, Draco was grinning mischievously, something Harry had come to like very much. But just next to his head, behind him and pinned to the wooden wall of one shop, was the black and white face of his aunt. Bellatrix also looked triumphant in the Wanted sign, half-lidded dark eyes and an arrogant smile stretching her lips. It felt like looking at Draco next to Sirius again, but instead of pleased surprise at the resemblance, Harry felt as if he had been slapped and physically reeled back.

“There’s no need to react like that, it was only a broomshed,” said Draco, looking at him in amusement, one pale eyebrow raised and white grin still in place. He had clearly noticed Harry’s reaction, but not the cause. 

The door to the shop opened as two students walked out, the chiming of the bells on it drawing Draco’s attention away from Harry and towards the shop. He was just beginning to turn his head, and then he would notice the poster and grow silent, and it would be awkward for both of them-

“No!” blurted Harry. It stopped Draco from noticing the poster, but now he was looking at him in alarmed confusion. “I mean, er,” Harry fumbled for words while the blond kept silent, waiting for an answer, “the _entire_ broomshed?”

Draco immediately frowned at him. “I know it’s not as impressive as throwing a boa constrictor at my cousin.”

“Oh, well, it’s just vanishing the glass,” said Harry dismissively. “Fire is cooler, er. Anyway, come on,” he tugged at his hand to walk faster. “It’s very cold today, isn’t it?”

“It’s cold every day, Harry. It’s winter."

\---

The Three Broomsticks wasn’t as packed as usual due to the late hour, but the drops of rain that had started falling on the window near their table made it clear that soon enough many students would come rushing in seeking refuge and a hot drink. 

Harry hadn’t been there much last year, being too preoccupied with the Tournament, but he was sure that the last time he had been there he hadn’t even thought of the possibility that the next time he went it would be like this: Sitting on a table by the corner, two tankards of Butterbeer on the table and Draco Malfoy across of it, voice posh and sure as he went on about the magical relevance of owls, snakes and cats. 

“And toads as well,” said Draco, pale nose scrunched in distaste. “But I don’t like them.” 

And Harry definitely hadn’t thought that he would be listening happily, mind half on the conversation and half on the feeling of Draco’s knees bumping into his under the table. But even if he hadn’t expected it then, it felt _right_ now. 

_‘If only I had known,’_ thought Harry as he took another gulp of Butterbeer, eyes on Draco’s gestures as he explained that those animals were worthy of being a wizard's companion due to their intelligence. 

“Snakes do have their own language, after all,” added Draco, tracing a finger on the side of his tankard absentmindedly. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I understand the other three, but toads? Neville’s is always getting lost.”

“Professor Snape says toads are useful for testing potions, due to their skin,” explained Draco, scrunching his nose again. “But useful or not I’m not touching any. They are _disgusting_. So slippery and-” he cringed, shaking his hands as if getting rid of something “- _ugh_.” Harry honestly didn't know how he hadn't noticed before, but Draco was _very_ squirmish. And that was rather funny to watch, especially during potions, where he visibly braced himself before grabbing any bug or other slightly disgusting ingredient they might have to use. 

“No wonder they went out of style,” finished Draco. He took another sip of Butterbeer, carefully avoiding the foam at the top, and then lowered his tankard with a pleased sigh. “This is nice,” he said, looking at Harry with a grin. “Not the best place for a date, but nice enough.”

It hit Harry then, that this was their first _date_ date. Out of Hogwarts and just the two of them. The last time he had been this close to Draco Malfoy in Hogsmeade, Harry had been under his cloak and dragging him on the snow while the boy screamed in terror. “It is nice,” said Harry sincerely, bumping his knee into Draco’s and smiling. “Maybe next time we could go to the Hog’s Head.”

“Don’t even joke with that.” Draco grimaced. “Terribly unsanitary. I’ve heard the owner has a goat there. A _living_ goat.”

Harry grinned. “Then where would you like to go?” he asked, feeling his chest warm at the idea of going out again. “For a date, I mean.”

“Florean Fortescue's."

“The ice cream shop in Diagon Alley?” Harry hadn't been expecting that answer, but Draco had answered automatically, as if he had known the question beforehand.

Draco tapped his tankard with a finger. “Is there another one?” he drawled, the tips of his ears slightly pink.

“Not that I know of, no.” Harry smiled. “I like it. I think the strawberry-and-peanut butter flavour is my favourite. What’s your-?” He paused and raised a hand to cut Draco’s answer. “No, don’t tell me.” Harry hummed in deep thought; he had tried every flavour when he spent three weeks at the Leaky Cauldron before his third year at Hogwarts and one of them easily popped to mind. “Toffee-and-apples,” he resolved, feeling confident. 

After a blink of surprise, Draco's silver eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Who told you that? Was it Vincent?”

“No one,” chuckled Harry. “It’s just that it’s the sweetest flavour there, and you have a sweet tooth.”

“I do not,” retorted Draco immediately. “It just happens to be the best one.”

“Too sweet.”

“There’s no such thing as too sweet,” said Draco, like any person with a sweet tooth would. 

Harry hummed, bringing his tankard up. “For you, maybe,” he mumbled against the rim, earning himself a light kick in the shin. He lowered it and grinned at Draco, “Fine, let’s go there. In Summer.”

“I would like that,” said Draco formally. He looked down at his tankard and tapped it with a finger again before adding, “We could shop together too."

Before Harry could answer, the bells of the entrance chimed again as another customer walked in the Three Broomsticks. He glanced towards it warily and blinked at the unexpected newcomer. 

“She’s not coming here,” said Draco lazily. His back was to the entrance, but he seemed confident about the new customer not being Umbridge. And he wasn't wrong. “She much prefers that disgusting little tea shop. Guess it suits her since it’s as awful to look at as her office.”

“It’s not her,” said Harry with a smile, keeping an eye on the figure as it approached with a tankard on his big hands. “Hagrid,” he called as the Groundskeeper passed by their table. “Hi.”

Hagrid blinked at him, his big face _still_ bruised despite the passing of time. “Oh, hullo, Harry,” he greeted with the quiet voice he had started using since his classes with Umbridge. “What are you doing here?” he asked, then looking at the table and freezing when he saw Draco. “Malfoy.”

Draco had frozen as well. “Hello, professor,” he offered politely, grey eyes stopping on the fresh cuts on his face and widening slightly. 

Silence stretched as neither of them spoke.

“Are you alright, Hagrid?” asked Harry, because Hagrid not only seemed more bruised than before, he also looked unwell. “What’s up with the-” he gestured to his own face.

Hagrid’s gaze flickered to Draco for a brief second. “Oh, nothing,” he said dismissively. “Just the usual bumps from the job, you know- Malfoy here knows about _that-_ ” Hagrid cut himself as if just processing what he said. “I mean-”

“I do know,” said Draco in a low voice. He was still looking at Hagrid’s bruises and cuts. “Did the thestrals do that?” he asked carefully, as if afraid of the answer.

There was another moment of silence as Hagrid blinked at him. “Yes,” he finally said in an odd tone, nodding his head vigorously. “The thestrals. They were a bit hungry." Hagrid chuckled awkwardly. "Uhm, did you like ‘em?”

Harry grimaced. Draco definitely hadn’t liked them. 

“Not really,” said Draco, drumming his fingers against his tankard. “But the crups were alright,” he added after a moment.

“Oh, that’s good,” said Hagrid. “I personally don’t find ‘em as exciting, but- er.” He cleared his throat, waving a hand towards the tavern. “Well, I don’t wanna interrupt your- I’ll just,” he raised his tankard, “you know.”

Harry nodded. “Alright. See you, Hagrid.”

“I’ll be seeing you, Harry,” said Hagrid, then nodding at Draco, “And you too, Malfoy.” 

“Professor,” called Draco just as Hagrid turned around, making both him and Harry look at him in surprise. Draco seemed a bit uncomfortable but didn’t look away from Hagrid, he cleared his throat once again and then said rather seriously, “You should know, no one agrees with Umbridge.”

Now that he knew Draco, Harry recognized the words as a white flag, raised with uncertainty in a discreet offer.

For a moment, Hagrid only looked at him in the same way Harry had seen him looking at creatures before. Then he nodded. “Awful woman,” he agreed, voice gruff but sounding a bit lighter. “I’ll be seeing you two,” he repeated. “Take care.”

Harry watched as he shuffled further into the tavern until he disappeared behind a crowd and Harry turned to look at Draco. “Do you think the thestrals did," he gestured at his own face, "that?”

“That’s what he said,” said Draco, raising his tankard to take another sip. 

Harry hummed. He hadn’t seen the thestrals, and they were classified as dangerous, but the idea buggered him. He didn't quite believe it was them the ones that had done it. 

Draco lowered his now empty tankard. “I was thinking of going to Honeydukes,” he said, then throwing an annoyed glance at the window, “But the cursed rain is only getting worse.”

“A bit of water never killed anyone.” Harry placed a hand on the centre of the table. “But we could try running.”

“That only makes you get soaked faster,” huffed Draco, reaching to tap his fingers on Harry’s hand. He hummed in consideration, then pushing out his lips, “We could try with the Impervius Charm, I guess, but it’s _such_ a bother.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’ll do it for you.”

“So chivalrous,” mused Draco, as if hadn't been fishing for that. He grinned at Harry. “Very well. Shall we go, then?” he asked brightly, then frowning when Harry gave him a grimace, “Unless you have something else to do."

“Hermione asked me to meet her here at midday,” said Harry. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Well, that can’t be good,” sighed Draco, glancing around the tavern. “It’s almost time,” he stated, standing up. “Let’s see if she’s here.”

Harry gulped down his drink and stood up as well. “It’ll be just for a while,” he assured as they walked towards the front.

“It’s fine, we will just go later,” said Draco as he looked around. “Ah, _there_ it is. The hair.”

“ _Draco_.”

Draco grinned at him. “I didn’t say anything. It’s healthy hair, I’m sure.” He started shoving Harry towards a corner of the tavern. “Come on then, let’s get this over with so we can-”

At Draco’s sudden pause, Harry followed his line of sight and crossed eyes with Hermione, who waved a hand at them. “Harry,” she called from a corner of the room, “Over here!” She was sitting on a table occupied by two blondes. One of them was Luna, who sipped on an odd-looking drink. And the other was the most awful woman ever, second only to Umbridge.

Rita Skeeter smirked at them as they came close to the table, eyes glinting in an almost hungry way and fingers cringing as if looking for her acid-green Quick-Notes Quill. “Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise?"

“What is she doing here?” asked Draco coolly, eyes hard as steel and throwing daggers at the woman despite addressing Hermione. “Shouldn’t she be in a _jar_?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t been told yet,” said Skeeter, her grin stretching even wider. “Little Miss Perfect here was about to tell me.” She leaned in, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “So Draco, how are you feeling with the news of the breakout? Lestrange is your aunt, isn’t she? How-?” 

“Cut it,” snapped Harry, having seen the way Draco tensed up. He turned to look at Hermione expectantly, not without a sliver of irritation. “What is she doing here?”

“She is here for an interview,” said Luna dreamily, looking up at them with her big light eyes. “With you.”

Harry frowned. “She is?”

Skeeter looked at her. “I am?”

“Yes, you are,” said Hermione. “You are going to report the truth, the exact facts that Harry says about Voldemort’s return.”

Skeeter and Draco flinched at the name, Luna only blinked owlishly.

“The Prophet would _never_ print that,” hissed Skeeter, prompting Hermione to start bickering with her. Harry glanced away from the discussion and towards Draco. He was looking paler now, mouth pressed into a thin line that couldn't mean anything good. His eyes flickered to Harry’s, filled with something akin to uncertainty that made him feel uneasy.

“The Quibbler?” shrieked Skeeter, calling Harry’s attention back to the conversation. “No one would believe it.”

“They will,” cut in Hermione. “You just have to worry about writing it. And you don’t have any choice in the matter, really,” she added. “Unless you want me reporting you for being an unregistered animagus.”

“Of course,” muttered Skeeter, reaching into her purse to take out her acid green quill. “Then, let’s begin, Harry. Give me the facts, give me the events, give me the names.”

The _names_. Dread pooled in Harry’s stomach as his eyes turned towards Draco. They both knew just _who_ had been one of the dozen Death Eaters at the Groundyard. “Draco,” he said, feeling his throat dry and the room ten times colder. He opened and closed his mouth, not really sure of what he wanted to say, or even do. 

Draco’s expression was nothing but indifferent at first glance, but the hint of wariness in his silver eyes and the slight tension on his jaw gave him away. He returned Harry’s gaze, eyebrows raised as if expecting him to answer a question, then falling when he didn’t. “I must say,” he started, voice carefully neutral as he turned to look at Hermione. “Perhaps you should have given Harry a bit more of a warning.”

Hermione returned the look without saying anything, because she too knew that Lucius Malfoy would be one of the names in Harry’s testimony. As it had been before, when the remaining adrenaline from his encounter in the courtyard made him snap at Fudge. But now there was none of that, only a shiver up his spine and a dreaded dilemma. 

“I’ll go,” resolved Draco, still looking at the three women around the table. “I do have other business to attend to.”

“Is there something you wouldn't want to hear, dear?” asked Skeeter sharply, reminding everyone that she hadn’t been a top reporter for nothing.

Draco raised an eyebrow in the perfect picture of an offended noble. “I have no idea of what you may be referring to,” he drawled, going back to his haughty voice as if it were a safety blanket.

“Surely you are aware of the rumours,” continued Skeeter, not deterred by Draco’s lie. “About your father-”

“You are here for an interview with Harry,” cut in Luna, voice as dreamy as usual but also regal and definitive. She took another sip of her drink and looked at Draco. “If you must go, I’ll see you later, Draco.”

Draco nodded at her and walked away, only sparing Harry a glance that made the words he was about to say die on his throat, because instead of anger, hurt or even annoyance, there was nothing but a blank look. And Draco had never looked at him like that, as if it were just a mere formality, not even when they had hated each other. No, with Draco Malfoy every glance had meaning. 

It didn’t fool Harry for a second. He could tell that under that misleading neutrality was a storm brewing. So he snapped himself out of it and crossed the room, avoiding the clusters of customers and catching the door just before it closed. The rain had turned into a downpour and there was no one outside but the shop-hoppers getting from one shelter to another. The clouds had darkened the sky and its raindrops splattered on Harry’s glasses, blurring his vision as he went after his boyfriend as fast as he could without running, getting soaked in the process.

“Draco!” called Harry, catching up with him just by the last shop before the end of the village. It was clear that he had rushed, even more when he didn't stop until Harry caught his hand on his. Only then he halted his retreat, and Harry watched as his shoulders rose and fell as if bracing for something before turning to face him. 

The expression on his face shut Harry up again, because the storm had broken out and instead of the blank facade there was a plea in his silver eyes, framed by stray strands of blond hair that stuck to his face. “Let me go, Harry,” he said, voice already missing the neutrality he had portrayed before leaving. “Let me go,” he repeated urgently but didn’t attempt to break free of Harry’s grasp, only looking at him in exasperation as he stepped closer. 

“I can’t,” said Harry, struggling to find the words he wanted to say. He didn’t know what he was doing, wasn’t even sure of what he wanted to do either, he only knew that he couldn’t let Draco walk away, not when he looked like that. 

Draco looked at him as if in disbelief. “I’m not going to sit there, watching as you tell that wretched woman what she needs to know to taint my father’s name,” his voice grew angrier as he spoke, “You can’t just ask me to watch as you-”

“He was there, Draco,” said Harry, feeling himself getting angrier in a sudden way, as if the anger had been there all along. Anger that most likely wasn't even his, and he cursed Voldemort once again.

“I know!” snapped Draco, wrenching his hand out of Harry’s grasp in a single move and giving him a heated glare. They stared at each other, Draco cradling his hand in the other as he took a deep breath. “I know,” he repeated in a calmer voice. “I just don’t want to hear it.”

Harry was still brimming with anger and even if he knew that it wasn’t entirely his, in his panic he let it grow. “Not hearing it won’t change anything,” he said. It was harsh and made Draco wince, but Harry couldn’t help it. If Draco was taking this position now, what would happen later when the truth got out? “Draco, what is happening now-”

“Don’t you dare lecture me about _what is happening,_ ” cut in Draco in a cold voice. “I’m perfectly aware, alright? I know what is happening, and what _will_ happen. I know! I just-" Draco made a frustrated, almost helpless noise. "He is my _father_ , Harry," he said, voice open in a way that cooled Harry down better than the freezing rain. "You can't ask me to stand still and watch something that will damage him, knowing I did _nothing_ to stop it. You can't ask me that!" 

Harry could only look at him, gulping down the two sets of words that had raced each other up his throat. But neither _'Your dad is evil, why don't you understand?'_ nor _'I won't do the interview, just please stop looking as if you were about to cry'_ were real options. Harry had to do that interview because it was the _right_ thing to do, but as he looked at Draco trembling due to the coldness of the rain and the raw emotion of his words, he learned that there are no _correct_ answers. 

Sirius had warned him; it _was_ a war and there _were_ sides. There were _loyalties_. And right now, just at the gate of it all, it was clear that Draco’s were with his family. And if Harry’s were with _his_ , then their sides were not the same. 

It was a harsh reminder, brought down like the cold rain.

Draco seemed to take Harry’s silence as acceptance. “I’ll see you later,” he said, taking three steps back before turning around. Harry let him walk away, watching quietly as he paused next to the poster of his aunt for a brief moment. He couldn’t see his expression, but he saw how Draco’s steps grew quicker on his way to the castle afterwards. 

“Harry,” called a cheerful voice, so unfitting to the mood that it startled him. Cedric was walking towards him, the drops of rain bouncing off his clothes, a sign of a recently casted _Impervius_ Charm. “Did you two have a fight?” he asked curiously, following Harry's line of sight to the faraway figure that was Draco. “I get you, Cho got mad at me as well,” he sighed. 

Harry's head snapped to him in surprise. “How did you-?”

“Know?” completed Cedric with a smile. “I’d like to say it was due to my observant nature, but in all honesty is because of Viktor.” He let out a brief laugh. “Ended up being quite a gossip that one, against all odds.”

“Right," Harry forced a smile, "well I have to go meet Hermione, so-”

“Oh, you too?” asked Cedric. “She asked me to meet her at the Three Broomsticks but didn’t say why. Needless to say, Cho wasn’t happy when I told her, even when I asked her to come along.” He shook his head and let out a sigh. “But I’m sure both of us will be forgiven later, right?” he said, bumping Harry’s shoulder with a fist. “Cheer up! And let’s get out of this rain before we get sick. We have a match coming soon and I want a redo of last time. No dementors this time.” 

Harry let himself be guided to the Three Broomsticks in silence, trying to bring down the anger that had once again risen. The reason Cho had gotten angry at Cedric was that he had interrupted their date, something so common even Harry was aware of it and so different to the reason Draco had walked away without even bothering to protect himself against the rain. They couldn’t have that normalcy, and that made envy growl at Harry’s chest. 

“Merlin, Harry! You are completely soaked,” said Cedric once they walked inside the Three Broomsticks. He brought out his wand and waved it, and Harry’s clothes and hair were dry again, even if slightly stiff. “There you go, now let’s find your friend.”

The older student walked away, leaving Harry feeling guilty at the hostility he had felt. He took a deep breath and let it go. Feeling calmer, he went after Cedric, towards the table he had left moments ago. If Skeeter’s grin had been wide before, now it was so stretched that it was a miracle the corners of her lips hadn’t torn apart. But she didn’t speak more than to greet Cedric, who blinked at her and then at Hermione as he sat down.

Instead of explaining, Hermione had turned to Harry. “Where did he go?” she asked. The urgency in her words made Harry frown.

“He went back,” he answered, taking the remaining seat at the table. 

“Back? To the school?” said Hermione, and now there was a clear hint of alarm in her eyes. “Harry, what if he tells- He wouldn’t, right?” she asked, then hurrying to explain herself. “I know he isn’t happy with the idea, and surely Umbridge would do everything in her power to stop us before it's published.”

Harry had to bite his tongue to not snap. “He is not going to say anything, Hermione,” he said angrily, feeling offended on Draco's behalf. He was sure of it, but Hermione didn’t seem convinced at all and Harry had already opened his mouth to repeat himself in a harsher tone when he understood. 

As it was Harry’s duty to do the interview, it was Draco’s to put a stop to it. While Harry’s side wanted the truth out, Draco’s benefitted in it staying in the shadows. If Harry was doing the interview despite Draco, then Draco would-

But Draco hadn’t done anything. Harry was sure that if Draco had wanted to sabotage the interview, he would have found the way. But he hadn’t even asked Harry not to do it. And neither had he crossed the street to the tea shop where Umbridge might or not be. Even now that he had gone to Hogwarts, Harry was sure he wouldn’t do anything either.

“He won’t say anything,” said Harry again, and perhaps he had somehow managed to convey his thoughts in his tone, because Hermione nodded and turned towards Cedric. He didn’t really listen as Cedric retold Skeeter what had happened in the maze, or what had happened with Viktor afterwards. No, he was too busy trying to understand what it meant for him that Draco was not playing his part. 

He caught sight of Luna’s drink and her odd radish earrings. _‘To keep away the nargles,’_ she had explained during a D.A meeting to an interested Goyle, who had been convinced and now read The Quibbler as gospel. The same magazine where Harry would accuse his father along with Crabbe’s and Draco’s. 

_‘Shit,’_ thought Harry, his hand clenching into a fist under the table. Anger had brimmed up again. Anger at their fathers, at the war, at Voldemort and at himself for not being able to find a good answer. One year ago he would have made the decision in a heartbeat, but now it was different. 

Cedric’s retelling was just background noise, Skeeter’s interjections something akin to ringing and the rest of the tavern had all but faded away. Harry looked up and found Luna’s blue eyes on him. They reminded him of Hedwig’s, solemn and knowing in a way that made him pause. And under her quiet wisdom, Harry made a decision.

\---

The halls of Hogwarts were still mostly empty, as the first and second years mostly remained in their common rooms and the older students hadn’t returned from Hogsmeade yet. Harry’s steps echoed around him as he made way to the library, shaking off the remaining drops of water from his clothes. The Impervius Charm had made most of them bounce off, but some had grouped together in the creases, making small pools. 

Madam Pince glanced over her open novel as he walked in, eyes slightly widening as she took in his appearance. Harry was sure she had a hawk vision when it came to things that could damage the books, and he hoped there wasn't any surviving drop that would get him kicked out.

He stood still until she returned to her reading, and then made sure he was out of sight before rushing down the halls of shelves. He hadn’t checked the map again since the gate and there was a chance Draco could have left in the time it had taken Harry to get there. The library was as empty as the rest of the castle since the work of the younger students wasn’t harsh enough for them to slave over the weekends and the older ones had thrown the towel on their piles of work for the day.

All but one of them, who sat on a table near a window, chin resting in one hand as the other hovered over a parchment with a quill. 

Harry didn't move from where he stood next to a shelf, taking in the moment of quietness and letting it soothe his nerves as he worked out what to say.

But Draco had always had a knack for ruining his plans. His silver gaze flickered from the parchment to Harry, making both freeze until Draco let the quill down and sat straight. "Harry," he let out in surprise, as if Harry could have done something besides going after him. 

"You changed your clothes," noted Harry uselessly, but not without relief. The last thing he wanted was for Draco to get sick out of this. He approached the table but didn't take a seat, instead hovering by one end. He took a deep breath. "Listen, Draco-" 

"If it's an apology what you have come to offer, I don't want it," cut in Draco swiftly, giving Harry a levelling look. "And if you come seeking one, you will be disappointed. I believe neither of us has done anything wrong. At least not to each other. I understand that you had to do what you had to do, and I expect you to understand why-"

"I didn't tell her," cut in Harry, not able to take the way Draco had been speaking, refined and distant and overall not fitting the trembling of his hand. 

Draco blinked at him. "You what?"

"I didn't tell Skeeter about your father," said Harry. 

There was a loud sound as Draco's chair fell backwards when he abruptly stood up. He was looking at Harry in disbelief. "You _what_?" he repeated, but instead of the relief Harry had been expecting, Draco's expression was livid as he rounded the table. "Why?!"

Feeling startled by the sudden approach, Harry backed up until his back hit the shelf. Draco stopped mere steps before him, jaw clenched and fists tightened. "Why didn't you tell her? You had to!" hissed Draco, somehow managing to look lost and angry at the same time. "It was obvious that you had to! Why didn't you?"

Harry was getting more confused by the second. "Did you want me to tell her?" 

"Of course I didn't!" snapped Draco in exasperation. "But I knew you had to. I understood. And I spent the entire walk back under the sodding rain figuring out what I would do and now you-" his voice faltered. "Why didn't you tell her?"

Despite it having been asked before, this time the question caught Harry off guard. Because instead of demanding and expectant, it had been asked with the fear of a person that already knew the answer and didn’t want to hear it. 

It puzzled Harry and made him rethink his answer. The reason he had omitted three names hadn't been pity, as Skeeter viciously suggested, nor fear of Draco breaking up with him, like Hermione did. No, back at the Three Broomsticks Harry had only been thinking about Draco's face whenever he received a letter from home, or when he spoke about his childhood. 

“Because he’s your father," he said. It was short, and probably didn't fully convey what Harry felt. But it was true, because at the end the reason Harry hadn't gone full-on ahead against the man, as he should have, was Draco's love for him. Harry was sure that the interview wouldn't have caused much damage to Lucius anyway, but Draco would have still felt guilty for not doing anything to protect him. 

Draco squeezed his eyes shut as if the answer had caused him pain. His hands came up, not in fists but extended and clutching on the front of Harry's jacket. "I didn't ask you to not do it, Harry."

"I know," said Harry softly, reaching to hold Draco's elbows with his hands, then rubbing up the back of his arms. "Why didn't you?" he asked. 

"I couldn't ask you that," said Draco, eyes still closed. "I knew it was what you had to do, in the role you have. It's what is expected." He shook his head. "But, Harry, you didn't do it. And now- Now what?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know. Hermione wasn't exactly happy, but I made her swear she wouldn't change a thing on my testimony. Skeeter was happy to see her angry and agreed." He licked his lips nervously, and steered himself to say what he had to say. "Draco, this time I might have been able to do something. But in the future, when the war starts…" 

Draco leaned forwards, letting his head fall on Harry's shoulder. "I know," he said, voice as low as a whisper. "I know that, Harry. But even then, thank you." His hands tightened on their grasp of Harry's jacket. "I just don't know what to do now." 

"Me neither," confessed Harry. If Hermione had been angry, then Ron would probably be too. And then there was Sirius. He sighed and tried to compose himself. "But we can figure it out together," he said, gently squeezing his boyfriend's arms. "I mean, you said it yourself once. That the people that matter have your back? I have yours." 

Draco raised his head. His eyes were open again, pools of silver with hidden depths. "Harry," he said, and the corners of his eyes had fallen again. "You make things so hard. You always have."

Harry blinked. "Sorry?" he offered, not sure of how he was making things hard at all. 

"You should be," said Draco, looking down and banging Harry's chest lightly. "You great idiotic Gryffindor saint. Always messing up my plans. Always finding a way to complicate things." His eyes found Harry's again, this time with a thoughtful look. "Thank you."

Harry smiled. "It's fine."

"No it's not _fine_ ," said Draco. "I'm sure Granger is furious, with how complicated it might have been to set it all up. Merlin, she will probably be angry at me as well." He sighed, letting his head fall on Harry's shoulder again. "But I'll have your back, Harry. I owe you one."

Harry opened his mouth to tell him that he didn't owe him anything. It hadn't been a favour, and Harry definitely hadn't done it expecting something in return. But he also knew Draco didn't mean it like that. That he had said it more to himself than anything else, perhaps as a way to understand. So he gave in. "You could kiss me," he said, grinning when Draco laughed against his shoulder and then looked up.

"Is the Golden Hero betraying his duties in exchange of kisses?" he asked with pretended shock. "The wizarding world is doomed".

Harry laughed. "Is that a yes?" 

"You mean here? In the library?" asked Draco, glancing around the empty space. The grin he gave Harry was blinding. "Perhaps just one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry and I debated what to do on this occasion for a long time, but I ended up liking this path and where it leads. Hopefully, you will like it as well haha. 
> 
> As usual, kudos and comments are very very welcomed! I'll be reading your thoughts, and I'll see you on Monday! Have a nice weekend!
> 
> PS: Right, so which was the best date? This one or the first one? Personally, I would prefer the ice cream parlour over either haha.
> 
> PPS: Also, the data of Draco having a sweet tooth is actually sort of canon, since we learn he likes toffees a lot in Hogwarts Mystery. Also, if I'm not mistaken, the books also mention his mother sending him sweets quite frequently, so there's that.


	21. March 11, Monday: Firenze

It had been exactly one week since The Quibbler’s article had been published, the morning after their victory against Hufflepuff. A copy of the magazine had arrived to Harry’s hands along with numerous letters that varied from calling him insane to expressing their utmost support. Knowing that there were more people out there that believed him felt truly good, but Harry would have to admit that watching Umbridge going around the hallways, looking irritated and snapping at people that talked about the article, was what really had made his week. 

Of course, the woman had put on her best fight to get back at Harry. It had taken McGonagall a loud discussion with the woman to stop her from banning him from playing quidditch, in addition to getting a week's worth of detention, and perhaps the worst of it all, getting banned from any future Hogsmeade trips.

“There goes our trip to Honeydukes,” had muttered Draco later that day, looking sourly at the brimming Befuddlement Draught in his cauldron. Harry would have to thank Snape for passing Umbridge’s examination because Potions was really the only class where he could sit with Draco. Hagrid was still under examination, Defense was an obvious negative, and Slytherin and Gryffindor didn’t share anything else.

The only complaint Harry had was Snape himself, who kept looking at them as if offended whenever he passed by their table. However, the man had said nothing to Draco besides useful pieces of advice about whatever potion they might be preparing. Which was something he definitely didn’t do with Gryffindors.

“We will go next year,” had promised Harry, not able to repress a smile. The contrast between Draco’s haughty mannerisms and him pouting about ruined plans was endearing. 

Draco had raised an eyebrow. “If you are not fighting with the Defense professor of that year, that is,” he had said, dropping the lovage leaves into his cauldron. 

As the week had passed, it seemed like everyone in the castle had read the article against Umbridge’s wishes. A great number of people kept pestering Harry, Ron or Hermione with questions about the Groundyard, which became annoying really fast. The D.A members had congratulated him, some like Cho giving tearful demonstrations of support or other like Dean doing so with excited pats in the back.

The Slytherin members hadn’t done the same. Not exactly. Parkinson had been ecstatic about it, telling Harry that The Quibbler had never sold as much and Luna was overjoyed, Zabini had snickered and told Harry he was quite sneaky for a Gryffindor and Crabbe and Goyle had confessed to not having read the article. “But I did read the one on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,” had said Goyle, looking proud of himself and receiving a wide smile from Luna. 

Perhaps the only Slytherin discontent with the article was Theodore Nott. Harry had not taken his father’s name out of his testimony, and even if it had been done due to them not being friends, he wouldn’t deny feeling satisfied by his irritation. Ron had suggested he had changed from one Slytherin rival to another and Harry had shoved him off the sofa. The only thing about Nott he cared about was that he had somehow made Draco feel troubled, which was more than enough to dislike him, he was not a rival and definitely not whatever Draco had been. 

But Nott wasn't alone in his dark mood. Hermione also seemed deeply unhappy with how the article had came up, despite its success, as she still kept giving Harry dry answers and frowning at him whenever she had the chance. When he had talked about that with Draco, the blond had sighed and told him it would pass, and then they hadn’t talked more about the article, or anything along the lines. So Draco hadn’t commented on Nott's anger and Harry hadn’t mentioned the recently dream-acquired information of his father casting an Imperius on a Ministry employee either. 

It was probably for the best, but it still left a bitter taste in Harry's mouth mouth. In a corner of his mind, and not a small one, Harry knew that they should be talking about the entire thing, but he kept pushing it in favour of simpler things. Like studying at the library and sneaking kisses when no one was around, or practising Defense at the Room of Requirement and stealing kisses because no one was around.

The only problem with the increasing amount of shared kisses was _this_. 

"You are not trying hard enough," hissed Snape with disdain. And that wasn't fair at all, because Harry had been trying his best, it's just that learning to _'protect one's mind'_ is a puzzling and non-clear as the concept itself. The man, of course, didn't seem to care at all and kept frowning at Harry as he stood up from where he had fallen to the floor. "Now, what was that?" 

Harry took his sweet time pretending to straighten his clothes. "What was what?" he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral and begging that Snape was talking about his latest Voldemort dream and not the very real memory of Draco kissing him before leaving for his common room after a long study session. 

Snape raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "The one with the man kneeling in a dark room."

 _'Thank you, Merlin,'_ thought Harry, feeling relieved for a second. Then he remembered he was not supposed to be seeing things like that. "Oh, it's nothing I have seen. It just ended up, uh, there." He really needed to work on his way with words, because that did nothing but make the man more sceptical.

"And how exactly did it end up there?"

"Just a dream," conceded Harry, knowing the cat was out of the bag. As expected, Snape hadn't been amused by that and started telling Harry off for wasting his time and not putting an effort. Harry, who was fed up of biting his tongue with Umbridge, argued back. 

They were interrupted by the sudden scream of a woman that sounded vaguely familiar and stopped to look at each other in confusion, argument forgotten. "Did you see someone on your way down here?" asked Snape with narrowed eyes.

Harry shook his head, and then followed him outside the classroom and all the way to the Entrance Hall. It was getting filled by curious students that had walked out of the Great Hall, where dinner was still getting served, in order to see the cause of such ruckus. Snape quickly disappeared among the crowd, leaving Harry to do the same. He searched around for any familiar face while also keeping an eye on the centre, where Trelawney was sobbing into her hands, two large trunks resting by her feet. 

"She is getting sacked," whispered a posh voice, whose owner was almost hit in the nose when Harry turned around quickly to look at him. "Careful, Scarhead," hissed Draco, still accepting his hand into his own. 

Harry looked at the circle again. "Is she really getting fired?" he asked, watching as Umbridge smiled sweetly at the pleading woman. 

"Of course she is," whispered Draco on his ear, making a shiver run up Harry's spine. "It was only a matter of time. Her performance under Umbridge's examination has been nothing but poor, you said so yourself."

Harry grimaced. It was the truth, Trelawney had been a train wreck during classes, but there was another professor that had been a mess too. "Draco, do you think, er, that Hagrid-"

"No," said Draco, his other hand searching for Harry's forearm. Then he sighed. "At least not while Dumbledore remains here. And I personally prefer his classes now that there is no risk of death."

Harry snorted. "Just don't try calling a kneazle a bloody cat." There was a light slap on his arm in response that almost made Harry laugh. But the situation was quite grim and if he laughed right then he would be a terrible person, so he bit his lip to suppress it. McGonagall had rushed to Trelawney's side now, engaging in a discussion with Umbridge, who seemed perfectly confident in her power to banish the former Divination teacher from the school grounds.

At least until Dumbledore showed up, with an entrance Draco called extremely dramatic under his breath. The great oak doors to the Entrance Hall had opened, making everyone fall silent as the Headmaster walked in the circle. Umbridge looked a second away from snapping her own wand when Dumbledore brought up the authority that remained with the Headmaster and asked McGonagall to escort Trelawney to her rooms again. 

The expression Umbridge made when Dumbledore presented Firenze as the newly hired Divination professor was even better. It was a mix of disdain and fear, and it was clear as day Dumbledore had made a perfect choice. 

“A centaur?” Harry looked over his shoulder to find Draco with an expression not that distant from Umbridge’s. His pale nose was slightly scrunched, silver eyes carefully studying Firenze. “A centaur is going to be teaching Divination?”

“His name is Firenze.”

Draco stopped his examination to blink at Harry. “You know it?”

“I know _him_ , yes,” said Harry sternly, turning to look at the circle again. The crowd was starting to disperse and Umbridge had stormed off, leaving only Dumbledore speaking with Firenze, who had remained aloof during the entire exchange. “Actually, I think you might have seen him before too. Remember the forest in our first year?”

“How could I forget?” asked Draco, letting go of his hand as the crowd became thinner. “Potter almost died on that occasion. Imagine how _ecstatic_ I was.”

Harry remembered Draco being more terrified than ecstatic, so he just raised an eyebrow. “Well, Firenze was the one that saved me.”

“He did?” said Draco, looking at the centaur again. Firenze had finished his conversation with Dumbledore and was making his way out the great oak doors. Draco hummed. “Well, I suppose the wizarding world owes him a lot, for saving their Great Hero; Saint Potter,” he said, lips stretching into a grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” said Harry distractedly. Dumbledore had started making his way up the stairs and he wondered if he should go after him. The Headmaster hadn’t spoken a word to Harry since Christmas.

“I suppose I owe him as well,” mumbled Draco, making Harry’s eyes flicker to him again. Draco returned his gaze, a faint blush spreading on his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “Anyway. He can’t be worse than Trelawney.”

Harry smiled. “As long as he doesn’t predict my death every class, I’m good.” He offered Draco his hand again, now that there was no one around. “Library?”

“I thought you were busy tonight,” said Draco, even as he accepted the hand and started to walk towards the stairs with him.

“Not anymore,” said Harry. Which was true. Snape had all but disappeared, and Harry was definitely not about to go searching for him. Umbridge had made sure it was an awful night for a lot of people, he had seen Parvati and Lavender cry along with Trelawney, but at least something good had come out of it. And against that woman, he would take every win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short chapter today! I'll see you on Thursday (as long as my work doesn't catch up to me, that is haha...ugh. I'll do my best!)
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! As usual, comments and kudos are very appreciated. I like hearing your thoughts! Have a nice week!


	22. April 2, Tuesday: You know what they say...

Despite having been aware of the schedule for months, Hermione's eyes still gleamed when April arrived and her excitement had quickly spread among the rest of the D.A when Harry let them know what they would learn after finishing with Levicorpus.

And now they were here and not even Harry could hide his wonder as the first silvery-white animals poured out of wands and ran around the Room of Requirement.  "Excellent, Cho!" called Harry as he passed by the Ravenclaw. The girl beamed at him as she was enveloped in a hug by Cedric, whose own badger Patronus walked beside her swan.

Perhaps for the first time in the year, every member of the class seemed to have caught the trick of the spell at the same pace. A voice that sounded like Lupin told Harry that there was a huge difference between summoning a Patronus in face of danger and doing so in a safe space. It would be necessary to find something to practice with and Harry doubted the Room of Requirement could provide them with a dementor or a boggart. He would have to find one and capture it, but for now, he pushed those thoughts away and enjoyed the spectacle.

On one corner of the room, Parkinson shared a wide grin with Luna, her white magpie flying next to her friend's hopping hare. An odd pair, but somehow fitting. 

Seamus gave him a grin as he passed by. He had apologised to Harry after the article had been published and brought in the next meeting by Dean, to Parkinson’s utter dismay. He had been a bit shocked to find the Slytherins there, and then even more shocked when Dean told him why they were there.  His fox Patronus was chased around by a bulldog, quite similar to Aunt Marge's one, that had poured out of an amused Goyle's wand. The Slytherin was punched in the arm in excitement by Crabbe, whose Hyena had taken to walking around slowly in a hunched prance. If Patronus could produce sounds, Harry was sure it would be laughing.

Harry was helping Dennis with the pronunciation of the spell when a gasp broke between the noise of the Room. He turned in alarm but quickly noticed that the collective gasp had been one of awe.  "It's beautiful!" exclaimed Lavender, hands grasped in glee. Her words were followed with sounds of agreement, as everyone stopped their chatter and stared at the newly casted Patronus. 

It was one of the biggest in the class, rivalling Harry's deer and Ginny's horse, and elegant in a way that reminded of its owner. With a long body and four strong legs, the white leopard strolled in a majestic way, doing a wide circle around a seemingly indifferent Zabini.

"Of course," huffed Ron, not without a trace of exasperated humour. "Of course he couldn’t have something like a cat, or a toad. Damn Slytherins." 

"Jealousy is an ugly thing," said Hermione, smiling up at her otter before it floated away, chased by Ron's terrier. "I wonder what the animals mean,” she mused, now looking at Harry curiously. “It's supposed to be a representation of a hidden aspect of ourselves, something we might not know but makes us us.”

Ron hummed. “So you like swimming and, what, Zabini is an overrated cat?” He huffed humorously and looked at Harry. “What did Malfoy get, by the way?”

“That’s private,” said Harry.

“Oh, it’s a ferret.” Ron's eyes widened in amusement and he clasped his hands. “Please tell me it’s a ferret, it has to be.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “It’s not, and that’s not funny,” he said sternly. 

“It kind of is,” said Ron, then rolling his eyes when Harry glared at him. “Fine, you are so boring-” 

His words were cut and transformed into a pained gasp when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder on an enthusiastic pat. “You have a dog too, Weasley!” said Goyle gleefully, a dumb but friendly grin on his face. It reminded Harry a lot of his bulldog Patronus. 

“Yeah,” managed Ron, sounding a bit pained. Harry grinned at him, letting him know he had it coming from laughing at Draco.

Both Crabbe and Goyle seemed to have taken a liking to Ron. Apparently, they had quite a good time during their last visit to Hogsmeade, dragging Ron with them as they made their usual sacking of Honeydukes.  “They buy things by the box, Harry,” had whispered Ron in awe later that evening. “By the box! Do you want some Peppermint Toads? Because I have like six packets.”

And since then they had started talking to him more frequently during D.A meetings, which worked out well because they needed the extra help and Ron was quite good.  Harry was glad to see the rest of the Slytherins had, against all expectations, blended up pretty well. Parkinson had known Luna since the beginning, but she had drifted to Lavender and Parvati as well, the three of them sharing a love for gossip. 

Zabini paired up with different people during their meetings, most of them girls, but he usually stuck to Fay. Their relationship was still a mystery to everyone, but as Harry watched him applaud Fay’s dolphin Patronus, he realised it was more a case of deep consideration for each other than something romantic. 

And there was also the fourth year Slytherin, who had always stuck to her Ravenclaw friend, to whom she was now proudly showing her silver snake. The Ravenclaw clapped cheerily and then prepared to cast her own Patronus. 

“Look, Harry! I did it!” exclaimed Dennis, snapping Harry out of his musings just as a big animal poured out of the Ravenclaw’s wand. He vaguely heard a shocked gasp from that side of the room as he turned to Dennis. The boy was staring in awe at the squirrel that had jumped out of his wand and was now scurrying away. Harry had opened his mouth to congratulate him when his eyes passed over his small height and found Parkinson. 

There was something in the way the girl had paused her conversation that made Harry halt on his actions. He watched her reach into her pocket and bring out something golden to look at it. As she looked around, Harry noticed she wasn’t the only one. All Slytherins but the fourth-year girl, who was staring at her friend’s quite surprising hippogriff Patronus, had reached into their pockets as well and now shared glances. 

Parkinson caught Harry’s gaze, her dark eyes flashing something that made a pang of alarm run through him. The next thing she did was not expected.  “Incendio!” she yelled, wand pointing at the wall where the D.A list had hung since the first day. It went up in flames, fully turning to ashes before anyone had time to react. 

“What are you doing?” yelled Dean, the first to recover, but his exclamation was ignored by Parkinson, who approached the pile of ashes as if to check there was nothing left.

A  _ Sonorus  _ was cast by a smooth voice and suddenly it was heard perfectly around the Room of Requirement among the quiet shock. “Let’s make this quick,” said Zabini, voice as neutral as usual despite being several times louder. “Umbridge and crew are coming, we have to leave. Now.”

There was no response as every D.A member turned to Harry as if wanting reassurance, but before he could react someone else did.  “SCATTER!” yelled Fred, and soon he was leading a frantic group of D.A members out of the Requirement Room. 

Harry quickly passed the map to Hermione, who had rushed next to him. “Get everyone out, starting with the younger ones.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he waved a hand quickly. “I’ll go last. If you can get away do it as well!”

Ron nodded and started dragging Hermione, as the girl opened the map and started yelling instructions among the crowd. Harry noticed how Crabbe and Goyle had run out of the Room rather quickly, but Zabini and Parkinson had stayed behind and were stalking towards him.

“We have done our part,” said Parkison in a hurry. Her dark eyes gleamed with determination as she pressed something round and cold into Harry’s hands. “Now it’s your turn,” she finished, not waiting another second to run away and out of the Room, dragging Luna with her and ignoring Hermione’s instructions to remain in small groups.

Ron and Hermione suddenly raised their heads from the maps and shut the door after the last group had departed, shutting them, Dean and Harry inside. When Harry looked at them inquisitively they just pointed at another wall. Umbridge was coming from that side.

“I wonder,” said Zabini, making the handful of Gryffindors that remained jump in surprise. They hadn’t noticed he was still there. “Why stay?”

Dean frowned at him. “Shouldn't we be asking you that?” 

“I’m here in representation of Slytherin, of course,” answered Zabini in a tone that made it clear he thought it was obvious. He didn’t flinch when a loud noise came from the other side of a wall, making the Room shake. “Why are you staying?” he asked casually, in the manner one does over tea.

“She is expecting someone,” answered Harry, eyes fixed on the wall as the Room shuddered again, the chandelier over their heads swinging wildly. 

Hermione nodded. “If no one is here, she will interrogate the entire school,” she managed, and her words were the last ones before the Room shuddered once more and a crack showed up in the wall.  The five of them tensed, Harry’s hands tightening around the object Parkinson had given him and quickly pocketing it, just in time a voice reached their ears.

“ _ Bombarda Maxima _ .” The wall exploded in a combination of dust and debris, that clouded their vision and didn’t hurt them by a miracle. It made them cough and hack until it finally settled and the group behind the gap on the wall was revealed.  Umbridge was standing at the front, her cardigan so pink it was impossible not to see her first. But Harry’s eyes quickly travelled to the group behind her, composed by Filch, three older Slytherins, two out of breath Crabbe and Goyle, Nott and the blond owner of a white sneer.

“But,” said Dean, pointing at Draco as if in betrayal. “But I thought you and Harry-”

Zabini let out a huff of exasperation and the older Slytherins looked at Draco in suspicion, but Umbridge didn’t seem surprised by Dean’s words. The woman only smiled smugly like a cat after a good meal as she turned to Draco.

“Oh, well, you know what they say,” drawled Draco, his voice as posh and disdainful as it could be as he looked directly at Harry. His silver eyes flashed dangerously like a warning. “Keep your friends close…”

_ ‘And your enemies closer,’ _ finished Harry on his head as Umbridge’s crew walked in, wands raised as they circled their little group. 

It was game over for the D.A. 

\---

Harry was harshly taken to Dumbledore’s office by one of the older Slytherin students, a brute boy that he recognized as the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Montague. Umbridge walked in front, chin raised with the confidence of someone that knows she has won, but also in the offended way of an outraged law abider.  Next to her walked Draco, nose upturned and steps sure. His silver eyes had avoided Harry’s all the way, almost as if he wasn’t there, and even when Harry knew that it was just for show, an act to play in front of the rest, it still felt wrong.

“Go on,” grunted Montague, pushing Harry inside the office while he stayed outside. The rest of the D.A had been sent to their Common Rooms, where Harry was sure they were telling the ones that escaped what had happened.  Draco also had gone in, standing next to Umbridge like a proud soldier. It made Harry’s stomach turn, and perhaps it helped to set his case because when Dumbledore, McGonagall, Kingsley, the other Auror, Percy Weasley and the Minister turned towards him, he had a deep frown on his face.

“It’s just as I told you, Cornelius,” was saying Umbridge in an urgent tone. “They have been holding meetings in secret, despite the regulations.”  Fudge listened, his eyes gleaming with suspicion as he glared at Dumbledore, who remained seated in a calm manner. Harry felt another rush of anger at the Headmaster and didn’t know if it was a result of his connection with Voldemort or of the older man ignoring him all year.

“Mr. Malfoy here was the one to tell me,” said Umbridge proudly, smiling sweetly at Draco and placing a hand on his shoulder. Harry wanted to swat it off but refrained himself by clenching his teeth. “He’s done an excellent job.”

Harry saw Kingsley giving him a pointed look, and he knew that Draco hadn’t done his reputation among the Order any favours. The thought of what they might say of him in the next meeting made Harry tighten his fists. 

Fudge gave Draco an approving nod, that the boy received with a proud controlled smile, as if he hadn’t been criticising the man all summer. “I’ll have to tell Lucius,” said the Minister. “I’m sure he will be pleased. Please tell us, Draco, what Potter has been doing.”

Draco raised his chin, ignoring the disgusted looks McGonagall and Kingsley threw at him from the sidelines. “As I told Professor Umbridge, sir, it’s to my knowledge that Potter attempted to hold an illegal meeting with other students today.” 

McGonagall frowned. “And where is the evidence of that?” 

“Mr Potter invited Draco to the meeting,” said Umbridge haughtily, ignoring McGonagall's look of disbelief to smile at Draco, who nodded. “Of course, he came to tell me immediately and we managed to catch them. I’m afraid it’s just as I warned Minister, they have been holding illegal meetings since Potter rounded them up on Hogsmeade-”

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “But Dolores, from what Draco mentioned, it’s apparent this was the first meeting.”

Everyone in the room turned to Draco, who seemed unaffected by the attention. “As I have said, I only have knowledge of today’s meeting,” said Draco coolly, and Harry had to fight a startled laugh at how easy it was for him to lie. 

Umbridge seemed less amused. “Of course, but it is possible they have been meeting for longer and just invited Draco today. And, Cornelius,” she added urgently, “We searched the room, found books and target dummies- They have been learning to  _ fight _ .”

This made Fudge turn a sharp glance at Dumbledore, who still remained calm on his desk in a way that was infuriating for the Minister.  “Potter has been persuading students to join an illegal society,” continued Umbridge, voice like poisoned honey as she twisted the events. “Teaching them spells and curses banned by the Ministry-”

“There is no evidence of that,” cut in McGonagall harshly. “We only know about tonight’s meeting.”

Umbridge was not deterred. “Even with that! We have evidence of one meeting against school regulations! It merits at least expulsion!”

Draco’s eyes widened slightly in panic, something that went unnoticed by everyone but Harry, who had been looking at him.  _ ‘It’s fine,’ _ he wanted to say, seeing how Draco’s jaw tensed.

“It’s not Harry’s fault,” said Dumbledore calmly, standing up from his desk. Even with his slow moves, Harry saw the way the Minister and Umbridge took a half step back. “I asked him to hold this meeting.”  No one had been expecting that, and Harry couldn’t help but exchange a glance with Draco, both looking away quickly.

“You! So you wanted to start an illegal organization with the students!” accused Fudge, sounding outraged but also victorious, almost in a wild way. “To overthrow me!”

Dumbledore merely nodded. “Oh, yes,” he said in the way one humours a child.

“Did you catch that, Weasley?” asked Fudge, sparing Percy a glance.

Percy seemed to share his excitement. “Yes, Minister!”

“I want it on the Prophet tomorrow,” continued Fudge. “Dumbledore has confessed to building an army-”

“No!” yelled in Harry, ignoring the warning looks Kingsley, McGonagall and even Draco sent at him “That’s not true. Sir, you didn’t tell me-”

“Be quiet, Harry, or I’ll have to ask you to leave my office,” said Dumbledore easily.

“Yes, shut up, Potter!” barked Fudge, and Harry was once again surprised that he was the Minister of Magic. “I came here wanting to expel Potter, but now I’m here to-”

Dumbledore nodded. “To arrest me, of course.”

“Yes!” said Fudge, positively delighted. “Now you will be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and sent to Azkaban to await trial-”

“Oh, no,” said Dumbledore, remaining behind his desk. “I’m afraid I have no intention of going to Azkaban.”

Umbridge huffed. “It doesn't matter what you wish,” she hissed, raising her wand.

“Enough of this rubbish!” shouted Fudge. “Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!”

Before the Aurors could step up, the blurred orange figure of Fawkes descended from its perch, meeting Dumbledore’s clasped hands and with a last wink at Harry and a sudden flash of light the man disappeared.  As Fudge started sputtering in rage, Harry exchanged a look with Draco, who only blinked at him, his hand going to his own pocket to take out a galleon briefly, then hiding it again. Harry bit his lip to refrain from grinning. The message was clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, The D.A had a good run. I considered keeping them secret, but in the end, it sort of made sense to have it go this way for me.
> 
> Well, hoped you liked the chapter, I'll see you on Monday!


	23. April 3, Wednesday: The Inquisitorial Squad

“This is a nightmare,” declared Hermione as the trio looked at the newly hanged notice. Even among the many others, it was easy to find it, because it was bigger and shinier, perfect for Umbridge to announce her new status as Headmistress. 

Harry nodded in agreement. He had known since last night after Dumbledore had made his escape and left a furious Minister eager to let Umbridge take his place, but seeing it on the wall somehow made it final, made everything that had happened real. A real nightmare.

“Dumbledore won’t stay away for long,” said Ernie for the fifth time. He had joined them after their Herbology class in order to hear Harry’s side of the story. “You will see, soon enough he will be back.”

Ron huffed. “I certainly hope so, I'm tired of seeing the smug expression on that bi-"

"You don't want to finish that sentence, Weasley," called a posh voice that startled Harry, because it had been a while since he had heard the tone of superiority on it, not teasing or playful, but cold and satisfied.

Draco was descending the stairs in a regal way, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. It was as if looking back two years, if only it weren't for his height and the small constellation still pinned to his robes, just next to a silver 'I' that hadn't been there before.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ernie giving him a pitying look. It had spread like wildfire among the D.A members that not only Draco had been dating Harry, but that he had also sold him out to Umbridge.

"Sod off, Malfoy," muttered Ron darkly. He had been furious last night, pacing around the common room while Hermione and Harry only shared silent glances. Harry suspected Hermione knew the truth, but he hadn’t confirmed anything yet.

Draco's silver eyes passed over Harry and locked on the ginger, his mouth stretching into a grin. "I'm afraid I'll have to take some points from Gryffindor for that," he said in the same tone that once made Harry’s blood boil.

"Prefects can't take points from other Prefects," jumped in Ernie, hands clenched into fists as he glared daggers at Crabbe and Goyle, whose only answer was to blink like tired children. 

Draco’s white grin grew in a way that had always meant bad things, but Harry couldn't help but feel his stomach flutter at how much he liked it. " _ Prefects _ can't take points from other Prefects," he drawled, voice clear and pointed. "But members of the Inquisitorial Squad-"

"The what?" interrupted Hermione, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of irritation and disbelief. Harry could tell she was acting hostile on purpose, perhaps following her role as well, but he knew she was also doubting Draco’s actions.

"The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger," said Draco haughtily, pointing at the silver 'I' pinned to his chest with a pale finger. "A group of select students handpicked by our Headmistress. So, now that we are on the same page, I'm taking five points from Gryffindor for your comment on our Headmistress, Weasley, five points from Hufflepuff for speaking to me," he frowned at Ernie for a moment and then shrugged, "whoever you might be, and," he turned to Harry with a sneer "five points for staring at me,  _ Potter _ ." 

Harry felt his face flush and he clenched his jaw and bit his lip in order to stop it from moving. From the glances he was getting from Ron and Ernie, he was sure they thought he was trying not to retaliate. Draco only grinned at him, because he knew what Harry was really doing, and, as if to make things easier for him, turned on his heel and walked away, elegant like a dream with his poised back and long legs. 

Hermione cleared his throat, and Harry realised that someone that had been betrayed by his boyfriend shouldn’t be staring at him, so he looked away, just in time to see how Crabbe and Goyle threw them a confused look before following Draco. 

“I don’t understand how you can be so calm, Harry,” muttered Ron, as the four of them watched how Draco stopped at the end of the hall to, presumably, take points from a pair of Ravenclaws. “If I were you, I would have hexed that git’s face off already.”

Hermione hummed, her eyes travelling to exchange another silence glance with Harry, who hummed as well as his hand closed around the galleon Parkinson had given him yesterday. It had suddenly shuddered around midnight, leaving behind an engraving just for Harry to read.

“Yeah,” said Harry un-commitally, eyes still on Draco. The blond finished sneering at the Ravenclaws and glanced at him, his white grin perfectly distinguishable despite the distance. Harry bit his lip, jaw and fists clenched as he fought to not grin back once again. “But his face is too pretty to hex off,” finished Harry, shrugging when the others looked at him in shock. “Let’s go,” he said instead of answering their questions, and started walking towards the school grounds.

\---

They were used to the Slytherins staying away from them during Care of Magical Creatures, since Umbridge’s presence had been a constant in every class. But today the woman was not present, something that made Hagrid breathe a bit easier but Harry wasn’t sure was a good sign, and the Slytherins still didn’t approach. 

“Salazar, this creature is so boring I almost miss the hippogriffs.” 

Correction. All Slytherins but one.

Ron huffed. “I miss them too, Malfoy could use another scare.”

Zabini looked up from the Puffskein they had been examining, a really small and very tedious creature that resembled a furry tennis ball more than an animal. He raised a disapproving eyebrow at Ron. “That wasn’t funny in any way, Weasley. He was  _ terrified _ ,” said Zabini gravely, then shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “I had to listen to him whimper the entire night.”

“What a nice friend, Zabini,” mumbled Harry, his eyes fixed on the Puffskein to avoid looking at the blond too much. Draco was doing a better job of ignoring him, so good that a small part of Harry was starting to fear he might have turned on him for real. 

Zabini clicked his tongue. “Harry, Harry. How many times have I asked you to call me Blaise? We are friends, aren’t we?” When the trio only looked at him in suspicion, the Slytherin only let out another tired sigh. “I even stayed behind with you yesterday. Do you know for how long Snape yelled at me last night? I have never heard him talk so much.”

“I still don’t understand why you stayed behind,” said Hermione as she poked the small creature with a finger. The Puffskein only made a small sound and rolled over. “You could have left along with Parkinson.”

There was yet another sigh, and Harry was starting to see that all Slytherins, with no exception, were prone to melodramatics. “You Gryffindors wouldn’t understand,” he said haughtily. “Your tiny impulsive minds-”

Ron let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, alright. Try us.”

“I told you before, I stayed in representation of my House,” said Zabini easily. “The others couldn’t, so it was in me to do so.”

“You mean the others betrayed us,” muttered Ron. “Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy.”

Zabini looked at him in silence for a long moment, then finally saying, “I was merely jesting about the tiny minds, but you do have one, don’t you?”

“They didn’t betray us, Ron,” said Hermione, looking around as if to check no one was listening to them. “If it weren’t for them, the others wouldn’t have gotten time to escape, or Umbridge could have found the list of names.” 

Ron frowned. “Yet they all seem eager to follow her around like soldiers, doing her bidding and terrorising everyone.” He flickered the Puffskein with his fingers, sending the furry ball rolling across the table. “And, it’s worth mentioning, I have only seen Slytherins wearing that stupid  _ Inquisitorial Squad _ badge.”

“Then you understand my reason to stay,” said Zabini calmly, a hint of a grin growing on his lips. “So tiny-minded Gryffindors like you remember that Slytherin was also present in your little group. If we want to be on the currently winning side too, well, that’s our business.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. He sort of understood where Zabini was coming from, but he couldn’t say it was something he could relate to. “So in the end, it’s a manner of remaining on both sides?” 

“It’s a matter of staying on one side without receiving the consequences of doing so,” said Zabini, smiling in a way that showed his pearly white teeth. “At least, that’s the opportunity I have gifted my housemates.” 

Hermione hummed. “That still doesn’t explain why you are doing it,” she said pointedly, one eyebrow raised. “I understand how they might benefit from having people on both sides, but right now you are staying on the  _ losing  _ side for nothing.”

It seemed like her answer pleased Zabini, who turned his sharp smile at her. Harry saw Hermione frown slightly, as if looking at something she should be careful with. “Slytherins never do anything for free, Hermione,” he said in a low voice that almost sounded like a purr. “You would do well to remember that. Sooner or later, we get our due.”

“Ah,” let out Harry in realisation, and this time he couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker towards Draco. He was looking at the Puffskein carefully, while Parkinson went on about something that made Crabbe, Goyle and Nott snicker. “They will owe you one.”

When he looked back at Zabini, he was grinning at him. “Precisely, Harry. We take our debts seriously, and I’m sure my housemates will be eager to pay up once our Headmistress is gone.”

“How can you be sure she will be gone?”

Zabini seemed surprised by Harry’s question. “Because you want her gone, of course. We Slytherins are well aware that you always end up getting your way,” he said smoothly. “The old man is gone, so it might be a bit more difficult, but, Harry, this is the first time we make a bet on you, I sincerely hope you won’t disappoint.”

Ron and Hermione looked at Zabini as if he were crazy, and perhaps he was a bit, but Harry had come to realise that all Slytherins were. And Harry had been hanging out around them quite a lot lately, so he just grinned back. “I’ll try not to, Blaise.”

\---

The door to the classroom opened, making Harry look up from the blackboard full of complex charts and towards the newcomer. Draco returned his gaze coolly, eyebrows slightly furrowed as if expecting something. 

“Potter,” he finally said, breaking their standstill and closing the door behind him without taking his silver eyes off Harry. 

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Malfoy,” he said in the same tone, and managed to keep his serious expression for a little longer before finally cracking a smile. “Hi.”

The white grin he got in answer was exactly what he had been waiting for the entire day. Draco left the door and approached him in quick strides, as fast as he could without running. Harry met him in the middle and caught him on his arms as Draco cupped his head with both hands and made their lips meet. 

The kiss was open and eager, and let Harry know that he hadn’t been the only one missing the other since yesterday. He kissed him back, enjoying the feeling of Draco’s hands on his hair and his warm breath on his mouth. Draco let out a pleased sound that ran through Harry the same way his sharp sneers and haughty voice had done all day. The daring feeling he had felt since last night after watching Draco lie to the Minister made Harry tighten his arms around him and give his bottom lip a tentative lick. 

Draco let out a gasp and pressed him closer, his lips opening further as if asking him to continue. And Harry did, because his mouth was hot and intoxicating, wet in a way that made his stomach flutter. Their tongues met and slid together, sparking something on Harry that made him break the kiss, because they still had to talk and he wasn't sure he could stop if they went on any further. 

He almost forgot about it and leaned in again when he saw Draco's half-lidded eyes and the wet trail over his lips. "Harry," he said in a hushed voice that made it feel even more private. His mouth curled into the white grin that had always driven Harry mad. "Five points to Gryffindor." 

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Just five?" 

Draco hummed, threading his dark hair with his pale fingers. "You could try again," he said against his lips.

"Maybe after you tell what happened yesterday," replied Harry. He caught one pale hand when Draco dropped them from his hair to glare at him. "I promised I would trust you, and I do, which is why I'm here," he said softly, pulling him towards a desk and sitting on it. "But I still want to know." 

Draco groaned. "A disaster is what happened,” he huffed, leaning on the desk next to Harry and bumping their shoulders. “I should have known that that sodding woman would call the Minister. I mean, we are talking about  _ you _ , Harry Potter, Golden Boy, Fallen Hero-”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” cut in Harry, not without amusement. “Why did you tell her, then?” 

“I had to cut our losses,” said Draco and his silver eyes hardened into steel. “If it were for me, I would have kept her in the dark until she left-”

“Why do you Slytherins think she will leave?”

Just like Blaise, Draco seemed surprised by the question. “Because you want her gone, and when haven’t you gotten your way, Saint Potter, Golden-?”

“Yes, yes. Alright,” huffed Harry. “You Slytherins are insane.” 

Draco frowned at him. “Might I continue, Oh Mighty Potter?” When Harry only gestured at him to go on, in an exaggerated galant way, Draco raised his chin. “As I was telling you before you  _ rudely  _ interrupted me, I had no intentions of telling her,” his eyes narrowed into an almost murderous expression. “And then that  _ ugly  _ rat presented herself in her office.”

“What? Who?” asked Harry. 

“Sixth year girl, Ravenclaw, reddish hair. A no-namer” The description was already forming an image on Harry’s head, only confirmed by Draco’s next words. “I believe she’s Chang’s friend?”

“Marietta Edgecombe,” said Harry in realisation. He knew she had never wanted to join the D.A, but he didn’t expect her to turn on them like that. Hot anger started rumbling on his chest. “She told her?”

Draco shook his head. “I was outside Umbridge’s office when she came around so I managed to intercept her. She said she was going to tell Umbridge and that I couldn’t stop her. She also said that she had seen me at the Room of Requirement before.”

“What did you do?” asked Harry.

“Oh, I just told her to go ahead, if she didn’t mind being disfigured for the rest of her life that is.” Draco sent him a mischievous grin. “It’s all thanks to Granger, really. I mentioned the little jinx she had placed, perhaps exaggerated it a bit.” He licked his lips. “You should have seen her face, Harry. She lost all her bravery and stuttered that she had to tell Umbridge. Her mother works at the Ministry, you see, and Edgecombe was under the assumption that she could get fired.” 

Harry’s anger didn’t desist. “Ron’s father works at the Ministry too.”

“Not everyone is a self-sacrificing Gryffindor, Scarhead,” said Draco sternly. “Merlin knows I’m not justifying her, but she had to make a choice between her family and a group of classmates.” 

A question almost escaped Harry’s lips, but he pressed them close because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer. He already knew what family meant to Draco, he didn’t need another reminder. “And then what happened?”

“She wouldn’t budge, so I made a deal with her. She could gain favour for her mother, she just needed to let me do the talking and raise no objections if I changed a few things.” He let out a sigh. “I planned to do it another day, let you know what had happened and come up with a plan, but Umbridge walked out and found us and I had to improvise. At least I convinced her it was only one meeting.”

Harry hummed, then frowning. “But Draco, why did you tell her I invited you?” The woman hadn’t looked surprised when Dean pointed out their relationship, but satisfied. 

“She saw us on Hogsmeade,” sighed Draco, raising a hand to run it through his blond hair. “I had to tell her I was trying to become closer to you in order to find out what you were doing, and that our fight was due to you keeping secrets.” He scrunched his nose in disdain. “Of course, I asked her not to mention that to my father.” 

Right. Lucius would probably not like the idea. Harry cleared his throat. “Uh, but she didn’t mention Marietta to the Minister.”

Draco let out a dry laugh, short and so full of itself that Harry wasn’t surprised when he spoke in a haughty tone. “Harry,  _ please _ ,” he said. “Why would Umbridge mention the daughter of a just-one-of-the-bunch worker when she could credit the son of Fudge’s close friend?” The grin on his face was so proud and satisfied that Harry wanted to kiss him until it was gone. “An Edgecombe or a Malfoy. It’s obvious what’s the better choice, right?” 

“Very humble, Draco,” deadpanned Harry. He was aware he should be bothered by Draco’s airs of superiority, but right now he found himself thinking they suited him. Of course, he would  _ never  _ tell him that.

Draco’s grin grew. “I don’t expect you to understand, Saint Potter, but that’s how the world works; connections and favours.” He leaned closer to Harry, his mouth brushing the shell of his ear. “And right now I believe you owe me one.” 

“Whatever you want,” answered Harry, turning towards him with a smile. His breath hitched. The scarce moonlight pouring in from the window made Draco’s blond hair glow like a halo and his eyes look like pools of melted silver that drew him in. Harry’s heart jumped at his chest. He liked him so much it hurt, perhaps even more. 

Draco hummed in deep consideration. “Then,” he finally said, one hand rising to meet Harry’s cheek, holding it softly before his grin stretched. “I want three gifts for my birthday,” he finished, shoving Harry back with a laugh as he stood up. 

“But-” Harry felt like protesting as the blond walked out of his reach, hands primly behind his back. “Your birthday is in June!”

The mischievous grin he got in answer made his heart jump again. “Yes, but you should start thinking about them now. My standards are not easy to meet, Scarhead.”

Harry let his head drop back and let out a theatrical sigh before pushing himself off the desk and joining the blond. He was looking at the blackboard, his fingertips creating gaps on the lines of chalk that remained. “Is this the Arithmancy classroom?” asked Harry. 

“Oh, no,” said Draco, rubbing his fingers to dust off the chalk. “This is just one of the many empty rooms of the castle. It just happens that some students, mostly Ravenclaws, use it to study sometimes.” Draco turned towards him again. “It’s quieter than the library, they say.”

“Did you call me here to study?” teased Harry. “Because I have no interest in charts, I’m afraid.” 

“Believe me, I don’t expect you to develop an interest in Arithmancy, your little head wouldn’t take it.” Draco glanced around the empty room. “No, we just needed a place to talk calmly, without being seen.”

“I supposed that means we won’t be hanging out much during the day,” said Harry, feeling dejected at the thought. 

Draco regaled him with another grin. “What is this? Can’t live without me, Scarhead?” he teased, holding out a hand for Harry to catch. “Can’t stand to be away from me? Will you miss me?”

“Terribly,” said Harry, the honesty in his voice making Draco blink at him. He took the opportunity to pull him closer, enveloping him with an arm. “I will miss you terribly, Draco,” he whispered, liking the way the silver eyes darkened. “Can’t we meet here? During our free time?” 

“What if she catches us, Harry?” asked Draco, but the grin on his lips let Harry know that he had already been convinced. 

He smiled. “I have my ways to go unnoticed.”

“Ooh,” cooed Draco mockingly, raising his hands to feel up Harry’s arms. “So resourceful and mysterious, Mighty Potter.” He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “We can meet here, yes, or some other places. I’ll let you know.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “If you expect me to meet you at your every whim,” he said seriously, letting the words settle. “Then you are absolutely correct.” He grinned and took the fake galleon out of his pocket. “I’ll be waiting,” he said, his fingers tracing the message  _ ‘Sixth Floor Classroom, 9 pm’  _ that had shown up last night.

“It pleases me to know you are willing to be at my beck and call, Scarhead,” said Draco, sounding quite pleased. He raised one hand to Harry’s hair. “But that galleon works both ways, you know? I’ll show you how to use it.”

Harry hummed. “Hermione helped you with that, right?” He smiled when Draco gave him a reluctant nod, but then remembered the outrage at the Common Room yesterday and had to wince. “You know, my friends are not very happy with you right now-”

“Absolutely not,” cut in Draco. “I can understand telling Granger and Weasley, because Merlin knows what you don’t share with them, but the rest are out of question. It would reach her ears somehow.” He raised a finger before Harry could protest. “Put yesterday for example. There were only four Gryffindors and Blaise at the Room, yet today one particularly annoying Hufflepuff called me shameless for,” his voice took a higher pitch that made clear he was imitating said person, “ _ playing with your feelings.”  _

“ _ Shameless _ ?” repeated Harry.

Draco nodded. “I think she might have been thinking of a different word, but didn’t want to lose too many points.” He gave him a malicious grin. “Of course, I still took fifty and gave her detention.”

“ _ Draco _ !”

“ _ But _ that’s beside the point,” continued Draco. “The question is, who do you think told her I was the one to snitch on you? Because Edgecombe is staying on the down-low, Blaise prefers mocking me in private and you are you.”

Harry knew who had spoken up because Ron and Hermione had been there. “It was Dean. There was a meeting at the Common Room while I was at Dumbledore’s office and he told everyone. I guess they went on to tell their friends from other Houses.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry-”

Draco rolled his eyes. “ _ Please _ , I can handle some comments from a few nobodies. The only issue might be it reaching my father, but even then I believe I can dismiss it as rumours, tell him I was just acting as a friend.” 

“Would he like that?”

“Oh, certainly not.” Draco placed a hand on Harry’s cheek and smiled. “But he knows I have never followed his advice when it comes to you. I mean, he used to tell me not to show how much I disliked you in public.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “It was literally the only thing you would show in public.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, it is.” Harry nodded gravely. “It was Potter this, Potter that. I used to think that you followed me around.” He passed his other arm around Draco in case he thought about storming off. “Did you?”

Draco frowned at him. “I did not.”

“I think you did,” continued Harry, liking the way the blond cheeks darkened. “What was it, Draco? Perhaps you liked me?”

“I’m starting to question whether I like you now,” deadpanned Draco, then scowling at Harry when he snorted. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He slapped Harry’s arms lightly to no avail. “Let go, Scarhead. Off. Off-  _ Harry! _ ”

The empty classroom was filled with Draco’s laughter as Harry attacked his jaw with kisses. The sound seemed to fill his head too, making his chest feel as light as a feather. When he looked at the squirming boy on his arms, Harry couldn’t remain silent. “I really like you,” he blurted. 

Draco stopped laughing, and Harry was hit with a sense of deja vu when his silver eyes flashed with something unreadable. But then Draco raised a hand to his cheek. “I really like you too,” he whispered, and for some reason it sounded like a sentence. “Merlin help me, but I do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Draco easily, and that didn’t help in any way, but then he leaned to kiss Harry again and that did help a bit more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter! See you on Thursday!
> 
> Kudos? Please  
> Comments? Amazing  
> Hotel? Trivago


	24. April 12, Friday: Past and Future

Dating someone in secret, Harry had discovered, could be as thrilling as a Quidditch match; Racing after the elusive snitch, ducking under bludgers, doing a sharp turn on your broom, sharing a glance across the corridors, flashing a grin when no one is looking, the teasing words with many meanings and the hidden meeting spots.

Blood rushing stuff.

“Well, we are _definitely_ not winning the House Cup this year,” muttered Ron as they passed by the Hourglasses at the Entrance Hall. The one designated for Gryffindor had suffered great losses in the past week and was now almost empty of rubies, in deep contrast to its neighbouring Hourglass, filled to the top with emeralds. 

Harry hummed. “I see The Inquisitorial Squad isn’t losing time."

"They are clearly not,” huffed Hermione, as they made their way to the Great Hall along with the crowd. Like other Prefects, she felt especially bothered by the new changes Umbridge had made, and her irritation was easy to see. “What they are doing is a total abuse of power, not even Prefects are supposed to take points without justification, I-”

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being so _boring_ , Granger," interrupted a voice behind them, followed by a set of snickers familiar enough to make all of them grimace in anticipation of the bad things it preceded. Once it had been insults and mean commentary, now it meant that but also fewer points for your House and sometimes even detention. 

While the crowd and his friends seemed to dread the new arrival, Harry felt giddy as he turned around. It had been Parkinson the one to speak up, her arms crossed and a glint on her eyes that made it clear she was enjoying her new role, but Harry’s eyes went directly for the one standing next to her.

Draco met his gaze with a sneer. “Got anything to say, Scarhead?” he said, the barest intonation in the nickname almost making Harry lose the battle with the smile tugging at his lips. 

If it weren't for the many eyes around them, that is. The rumours of Harry holding secret meetings had been only diminished by the rumours of him and Draco being together, and of the latter having been the one to rat him out.

Harry was definitely not enjoying the pitiful looks he kept getting, nor the mean comments thrown at Draco by the same people. It was truly taking his all not to snap at the next person that did any of those things. 

He used that irritation to answer Draco. "Not to you," he muttered. Clenching his jaw not only stopped him from smiling, it also made him look angry, like the whispering crowd watching them expected him to be.

Draco grimaced. “I don’t think I like your tone, Potter.” His voice was mocking, just like the grin that stretched on his face. “Perhaps ten fewer points from Gryffindor will help you change that.”

By the discontent whispers from Gryffindor members of the crowd, Harry could tell said number of rubies left the small pool at the bottom of their Hourglass, but he didn’t look away from the mischievous glint on Draco’s eyes. 

Harry couldn't help himself. “That’s all?”

The silver eyes widened slightly in surprise since Draco was probably expecting him to just scowl at him, and Harry felt as if he had made one point in their match. Murmurs of admiration ran through the crowd, that had abandoned all pretence and was now openly watching their exchange, but they might as well have disappeared, because at that moment Draco recovered and flashed him another grin.

“Let’s make it fifteen then,” he said, one eyebrow raised as if he had made a question for Harry to answer. There was curiosity on his silver eyes, shiny and captivating.

Harry licked his lips. “Fine by me.” 

The motion seemed to catch Draco’s eyes for a second, his gaze flickering to it briefly before looking up again, a slight frown settling on his face. It could easily be read as annoyment, but Harry knew better because he was also trying not to grin at the other.

Draco scrunched his nose. “Twenty.” 

“Alright.”

“Make it twenty-five, then,” resolved Draco easily, cocking his head to the side. “And I can go on and on. I don’t know what you are playing at, Potter, but perhaps think of your housemates. A few points more and there will be nothing to take away.”

It was what Harry had been waiting for, in some way, because the answer was out before he could think of it. “I can get them back.”

There were a few incredulous laughs from the Slytherins behind Draco, but the blond didn’t share their amusement. Harry had caught him off guard, and from the way his ears reddened, he could tell Draco had understood what he meant.

“Oh, really?” he asked coolly, stepping towards Harry. Once he was barely one arm away, he raised his chin in defiance. “Then let’s make it fifty,” he said, it sounding final and drawing some groans from the crowd. His grin stretched once again, sharp and dangerous. “Good luck with that.” 

Harry only glared back until Draco scoffed and walked away with the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad, some of them patting him in the back. The crowd parted and dispersed, entering the Great Hall after glancing at Harry. 

“You know,” started Ron once they were one of the few remaining people outside. His nose was twisted in a grimace. “That was somehow worse than watching you two flirt.” 

“It’s because they _were_ flirting,” hissed Hermione under her breath, making sure no one heard. “In a very odd way that made us lose _fifty points_. What the hell, Harry?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Hermione, the points are the least of my worries right now. There’s no way we are winning the House Cup with Umbridge here.” 

“That doesn’t mean we should be throwing them away,” huffed Hermione, ushering them into the Great Hall. “Besides,” she added once they were seated at their usual spots on the Gryffindor table. “Shouldn’t you two be keeping a low profile?” 

Ron snorted. “I mean, if I didn’t know better, I would expect them to exchange blows at any given time, so that little exchange out there was low profile for those two.” He chewed his food thoughtfully, but at Hermione’s glare he passed it down before speaking. “Besides, it would be weirder to see Harry not talking back at him.”

They had taken the truth of what happened with Marietta quite similarly to Harry; getting angry at the girl and then, even if they didn’t say it out loud, relieved by Draco not having turned on them. It made Harry happy, knowing that they were getting along better and that the circumstances hadn’t ruined that. 

“That’s true,” conceded Hermione, then taking her time to take a bite of a scone. “But still, it would be better if you made your little exchanges shorter. I mean, I think even Draco was a bit surprised. Maybe just leave it at a couple of insults, no need to gaze at each other- Why are you looking at me like that?”

Harry exchanged another look with Ron, who had paused on his munching. “Mione, you just called him by his name.” 

“Oh.” Hermione frowned. “Guess I did. I mean, it’s a bit weird to think of him like Malfoy now, isn’t it?”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Be careful or you will end up like Harry.”

Hermione gaped at him as if looking for something to say, but when she and Harry crossed gazes she let out a laugh, that turned into a fit the other two joined in. The rest of the table gave them weird looks and Neville silently pushed a glass of water towards them when Ron started coughing, having started laughing in the middle of a bite. 

“I don’t-” Hermione cleared her throat. “I really don’t think I will. Harry is a very special case. I wouldn't end up like him even if I liked Draco- Which I don’t,” she added when Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

“You better not,” said Harry, half-joking, half-serious, because two years ago the idea would have never even crossed his mind, and here he was now. 

“Trust me, mate, neither of us will. I mean, he’s good to play chess with, but no.” Ron shook his head and took another bite of his meat pie. “Plus, he’s being an outright git right now. Even if this is some sort of intricate plan, he is having way too much fun with it.”

Harry smiled. “Just with the points, really, neither he nor the others are giving much detention, so what’s the damage?” No one was getting hurt, and there were bigger things to worry about than the House Cup. 

Besides, it was very thrilling. It felt like a competition, not with each other but also the rest, and Harry realised just then that that was it. They were a team. They shared complicit looks and secret words in front of the unassuming rest. It was the two of them against Umbridge. 

They were on the same side, and not just in word, but in action and planning now. And Harry wanted it to be like that always, felt high on the feeling, but a little voice on his head questioned if that could ever become true.

“He’s daydreaming again, Merlin.” A hand was waved in front of his face, rudely startling him from staring at a spot on the opposite wall. It was probably good that Harry had sat with his back to the Slytherin table because if he hadn’t he would have probably been staring at Draco. 

He blinked and frowned a Ron, who retreated his hand to grab a scone. “What is it?” he asked, picking at his own food. The sudden revelation had left him less hungry, somehow. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “We were just saying that you probably don’t mind him going around being a big bully because you find it attractive. Like when he calls you Scarhead and such. Very romantic.”

From her tone of voice and the smile on her lips, Harry knew she had meant it as a jab at him instead of an observation. But Harry gave her a grin that let her know that wanted it or not, she had been absolutely right.

\---

It had been purely by accident, and not an agreed-upon meeting, when they had found each other on opposite sides of a first-floor hall. Harry had gone for a walk before dinner and Draco had probably been on his way back from the library.

They looked at each other, then around the hall carefully. There were only a few students, a group of younger Hufflepuffs that looked at Draco in mild fear as he passed by them. The blond plastered a sneer on his face that made the group shuffle away quickly, and then he turned it on Harry. 

The white sneer. Mocking, sharp, condescending, and so very _Malfoy_.

One second the Hufflepuffs had turned around the corner and the next Draco had been shoved into the nearest room. The blond let out a startled laugh. "What the hell-?" His words halted when he looked at Harry, his grey eyes widening slightly as if surprised. 

His back was against the wall, his head slightly crooked forwards from the low ceiling. There was a pink tint on his face, not out of place because they were very close, chests pressing into each other. It felt like a standstill again, Draco blinking at him and Harry not moving from when he had him pinned _-oh lord, pinned-_ to the wall. The blond tilted his head slightly, his lips pursed in consideration, his silver eyes studying Harry, who just looked back at him, unsure of what he was doing.

And then there was a spark on Draco's clever eyes and a flash of his pink tongue wetting his lips, bringing Harry's attention to them just before they parted in a grin. The same one he had flashed at Harry all day, the one that ran through him like his posh drawl and sharp words. It made something flare up on Harry's brain, making him frown and drag Draco forwards by the robes to capture it with his lips and kiss it away. 

There was no softness in the way he opened his mouth against Draco's, almost hungrily. Thin fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him forwards roughly to deepen the kiss, head tilting to give him more access. One of Harry's hands found a bony hip, the other arm bent against the wall as if trying to phase through, wanting to be even closer. There was a sharp scrape of teeth against his lips, followed by a lick, fast to leave just as Harry was to follow, and then he was licking into Draco's mouth and it was weird and wet and _oh-so-wonderful._

And Draco wrapped his arms around his neck and melted with a whimper, letting him explore his mouth. His permission made Harry's blood rush, pooling into his stomach almost uncomfortably, and then Draco was pulling him closer and one of Harry's legs came to rest between his, moving up when their tongues met. 

The kiss broke as Draco took a sharp intake of breath, as if pained, and then he and Harry were looking at each other, equally out of breath, faces red and messy lips. Under his grey gaze, Harry shifted in place nervously and Draco let out a groan, closing his eyes just for a second and letting his head fall against the wall. "Harry," he said, voice strained as his hands fell to Harry's shoulders. "You are- your leg-"

Confused, Harry looked down and almost exploded in embarrassment and something else. He removed his leg from where it was pressing into Draco's groin - _Oh, Merlin_ \- and looked up and almost died because Draco was looking at him through half-lidded eyes that struck him like a blow. 

_'Danger,'_ yelled a part of Harry's brain, but the rest was very preoccupied with how alluring his boyfriend looked. He wanted to kiss him more, maybe hear him gasp like that again. "Sorry," he whispered instead.

Draco snorted. "Sorry for what? Surely not for kissing me like that. Because I definitely didn't mind."

Pride grew and roared at Harry's chest, somehow making his next words easier. "I meant the other thing."

"Oh." Draco glanced away, cheeks even darker under the dim light of the room. Then he mumbled, "I didn't mind that either."

Harry felt as if punched by a giant. "You didn't?" he let out, noticing he was desperately hoping the answer was no.

"No," said Draco, taking a moment to take a deep breath before looking at Harry. He seemed to have recovered some of his composure, because his voice sounded haughty when he spoke up again, "But what I did mind was being kissed inside a _bloody_ supply cupboard. What the hell, Potter? First a cave and now this?"

One look around proved that, indeed, it was a supply cupboard, filled with barrels, buckets, brooms and whatever else Filch might use. "We didn't kiss inside the cave," pointed out Harry with a grin. "And I didn’t know it was a supply cupboard."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t, you just shoved me into the nearest room.” He threw Harry a suspicious look. “What's gotten into you? Is it the Inquisitorial Badge? I know you were very into pins last year."

“Are you still going on about that?”

“Yes.” Draco grinned at him, brightly even in the dim light of the cupboard, and Harry found himself grinning back as he had wanted to do all day. Which reminded him of the reason he couldn’t have taken a second longer.

He licked his lips. “It’s not the dumb badge,” he said, looking at the insulting item, hideous next to the silver constellation. He reached to touch the latter, liking how the small stars twinkled at him. “It’s just, this entire thing. I mean,” his eyes searched for Draco’s, finding them fixed on him with curiosity. “It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Is the Gryffindor Hero forgetting his ways and finding amusement in deceiving others?" teased Draco, poking his chest with a finger. 

"Not exactly," said Harry and Draco dropped his grin, perhaps having taken on his somewhat heavier tone. "I mean, yes, it's fun to trick them, but it's not just because of that, no."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "So is it, or is it not?"

"It's both." Harry wondered if what he was going to say was too dumb, but Draco was looking at him expectantly, and Harry had said dumber things before. He cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s fun to trick them together, right? You know, you and me,” he gestured to each other, “together.”

Silence followed as Draco seemed to consider his words, head tilted the way it did whenever he was in deep thought. “I see,” said the blond, bringing a hand to cup Harry’s face, his thumb moving to caress his cheek. “You and I together. Back to back against Umbridge...Is that what you want?” 

Harry smiled. “I think we make a good team.”

“How can you be sure? We haven’t done much, Harry,” said Draco seriously, a hard-to-read expression on his eyes. “I’m not like Granger and Weasley, I’m not running headfirst into trouble with you.”

Harry laughed. “No, of course not.” Draco seemed surprised and dropped his hand, Harry caught it and brought it to his chest. “You are not Hermione or Ron. You are you. So of course you would help me in another way. Maybe you didn’t rush in, but you are still with me, right?”

Draco closed his eyes with a sigh. “Against my better judgment, I am,” he mumbled, and Harry smiled at him.

“Then we are a good team, you have my back and I have yours,” said Harry. “I mean, isn’t that why you are siding with Umbridge for now?”

“To backstab her, yes.” Draco fluttered his eyes open and grinned at him. “I still think it’s a barbaric expression, but I have to admit it's oddly fitting.”

His tone was light now, a chance for Harry to leave it at that. There was a part of him that wanted to push further, to question if it could go further than Umbridge. Every day that passed, every dream of the corridor he shared with Voldemort, it added to a sinking feeling that something would happen soon. War was right around the corner, and perhaps Harry should sit Draco down and talk to him about that. 

But there were times and places, and that didn’t seem like a conversation for a supply cupboard. And they still had time. “I guess muggles have some nice inventions, right?” he said instead, figuring they could start with that.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You think betrayal is a good invention?”

“I meant the expression,” said Harry with an eye roll. “And they have other ones, like movies.” Of course, Draco scrunched his nose at the foreign word and Harry laughed. “I’ll show you one day, maybe during summer.”

“No, thanks,” said Draco in distaste. “Whatever they are, I bet they are awful.”

Harry shrugged. “Can’t say, haven’t gone myself.” The Dudleys had always left him home whenever they took Dudley. The only films he had seen were the ones they passed on the TV, and only fragments before his uncle changed the channel or sent him to his cupboard. 

Draco was looking at him oddly now, so Harry smiled reassuringly. “But I hear they are fun, you go into a room full of seats and they play the movie on this big screen.” Harry grinned when Draco scrunched his nose again. “Think of it like a Pensieve, maybe. You can see stories, but they are not memories, only an act.”

“You mean like a play,” said Draco haughtily, and Harry wondered if all wizards were stuck in the past or only purebloods. Still, it was fun, and Harry felt good about knowing something the other didn’t. It made them equal, in a way. 

“Exactly, like a play.” Harry nodded. “The only difference is that there are no actors present, and they can repeat it again and again. And they turn off the lights.”

Draco frowned. “So you sit in a dark room, that sounds awful”

“It’s to see the screen better,” said Harry simply, he didn’t know much about movies, really, but if he was to start talking about the projectors or electricity, he would rather do so sitting down and not standing up in a cupboard. 

“And it makes kissing easier,” supplied Draco.

Harry flushed. “I guess?” When Draco raised an eyebrow he gaped. “I didn’t mean to take you there just for that. Is that the idea you have of me now?”

Draco raised a hand to wave it around as if saying, _‘Look where we are right now,’_ and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, I promise, no kissing,” he said. “Just a date.”

“A date in the muggle world,” deadpanned Draco, rolling his eyes with a dramatic sigh. “This is my life now. Damn you, Potter.”

“You will like it, Draco, I promise.” Harry tried to step back and was stopped by a hand closing around his tie, holding him in place as Draco leaned closer. 

“Now, where are you going?” whispered the blond, his breath warm on Harry’s cheek and making him gulp before answering.

“Out of this supply cupboard that you hate so much?”

Draco hummed. “I do hate it, but since we are already here…” He shrugged and grinned at Harry disarmingly. “I mean, you did lose a bunch of points earlier.”

“Fifty,” breathed out Harry. “You took fifty. Are you offering them back?”

A hand gently pulled his face forwards, until most of his field of vision was made of Draco’s mesmerizing silver eyes. “I told you you could try to get more,” he murmured, so close Harry felt the movement.

Harry gulped again. “I just want to say,” he said and licked his lips. “That for the record, _you_ are the one asking _me_ to kiss in a dark supply cupboard.” 

The silver eyes narrowed, the pale eyebrows over them furrowing into a slight frown. “Just shut up and kiss me, Harry,” demanded Draco. 

There was nothing else to say besides, “Yes, sir.”

\---

Snape’s office was dimly lit and had an oppressing atmosphere that felt especially suffocating now as Harry and the professor stared at each other. The latter looking livid with rage, the former completely speechless after what he had seen.

Harry hadn’t meant to do it, really, it had been just a reaction. He had just relieved some of his worst memories; the graveyard, Sirius' almost deadly encounter with the Dementors, Arthur Weasley’s attack. It had been too much, but Snape wouldn’t budge.

He wasn’t sure how he had done it either, he just knew that one second he was blurting out a _Protego_ when Snape raised his wand and the next he was reliving a memory that wasn’t his but would become one of his worst too.

“I didn’t-” said Harry, but closed his mouth immediately because what could he say? _‘Was my father really the one that levitated you in mid-air as the group laughed? Was Sirius really the one cheering him on? Was that really Remus the one not doing anything?’_ He already knew the answer to all those, he just didn’t know what it meant. 

Snape’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Out,” he said through gritted teeth, and Harry had never seen the man so angry before. “Now.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He picked up his wand and made way towards the door, careful to step away from Snape. _‘Snivellus’_ was what they had called him, and Harry didn’t like the man at all, but he didn’t think he liked the boy his father was in that memory either. As arrogant as Snape had always said.

The door opened with a creak and Harry started to slip away, when a voice made him halt because it was dangerously neutral. “You will be his ruin,” hissed Snape, so definitive and grim it sounded like what Trelawney should sound like when she made a deadly prediction. 

A chill went up Harry's spine, and through his numb mind, but he didn’t look back. He didn’t know what Snape meant, but asking wasn’t an option. He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, walking and not stopping until there were at least three floors between him and Snape.

He wished he could walk away from the memory too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter! Sorry for the lateness! Will see you on Monday!


	25. April 22, Monday: Three Dragons

The notice had appeared in the Common Room’s notice board the morning of the last day of the Easter Holidays, in big bold letters that spoke of its importance and made all the students exchange worried looks.

“Career advice,” sighed Harry, his head resting against the stone wall of the alcove. He had felt reluctant to use the map at first; it was his father’s and Harry didn’t know what to think about the man now, or Sirius, or Remus. But it had been worth it, because thanks to it he had found the alcove, hidden behind a large tapestry on the sixth floor, and now he and Draco could study together in peace. 

Draco looked up from the book he held on his lap. He was sitting on the floor just in front of Harry, cross-legged like a child but still making it look proper. Or maybe that was just Harry’s biased perception. “Yes, career advice. What about it?” 

“I mean, do you have any idea of what you would like to do?” asked Harry, reaching for a chocolate of the box Draco’s mother had sent him for Easter. The blond hadn’t gone home, choosing to stay to study for the upcoming exams. Of course, Harry was also part of the reason and he felt very proud of that. 

“Well, I don’t really need to work,” said Draco haughtily, his chin tilted up in the way it did whenever something pleased him about himself. “But I do like Potions, so I could keep studying that. Or perhaps Alchemy.”

Harry could definitely see Draco go down that path, with how comfortable he looked before a cauldron. Harry himself was another issue. “I think I want to be an Auror,” he said, then popping the chocolate into his mouth. It was exquisite and undoubtedly expensive, as usual.

“An Auror?” repeated Draco, as if tasting the word. He closed his book and looked at Harry in consideration. “I guess your Heroism would definitely guide you there, yes,” he said after a while, drawing a startled laugh from Harry. “And you are quite good at Defense as well.”

“But?” asked Harry, because he was sensing one there.

Draco rolled his eyes. “There are no buts, I was just thinking you could make a good Defense teacher since you did well with your little army.” The blond shrugged. “Of course, you could do that after retiring.” 

_‘Like Moody’_ was left unsaid because the man hadn’t actually been their teacher, and because it brought bad memories to both of them. 

“Either way, you will be fine, Harry,” said Draco, taking a chocolate of his own and bringing it to his lips, along with Harry’s eyes. “I’m sure the Auror Office will be quite pleased to have the Great Potter among their ranks. Who knows, maybe they won’t even ask you for your NEWTS,” he said slyly, before taking a bite. 

Harry looked up again. “You think?” he asked with a looped smile. He knew Draco was teasing him, but sometimes playing along was better.

“Oh, I know,” said Draco with a grin. Then he paused, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “At least it should be like that, but with how Fudge is acting right now, you are going to need O’s in all your NEWTS."

That made Harry grimace. He hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t thought about much, to be honest. The future seemed so far away right now, and so unclear. It was easier to focus on the now, on their little alcove and the expensive chocolates. He sighed again. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that too much, Harry.” Draco’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, finding his silver eyes fixed on him. “Right now, all you have to worry about are your O.W.Ls, and perhaps the NEWTs you will take next year.”

It was a kind lie, and the slight edge of Draco’s tone made it clear he was aware Harry knew. There were more than OWLs or NEWTs to worry about in the near future. “Yeah,” said Harry, not wanting to sour the moment with a discussion that would have to take place soon. “Maybe I’ll tell McGonagall I don’t want to work, and instead live a lavish life like you."

Draco grinned. “I can arrange that.” His eyes were sparkling, and he shook his head in amusement before returning to his book. 

However, he was soon putting it down again. “Was that what has been bothering you?”

“What?” asked Harry, sitting up straighter. There were several things bothering him at the moment, and many were not possible to share with the blond. 

“You have been a bit weird lately-” Draco gave him a serious look. “More precisely, the past week. I do understand if it’s something you cannot talk about, but if it’s related to me-"

“No, it’s got nothing to do with you,” hurried Harry, backing up when Draco looked affronted. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with us, or you, or anything.” He rubbed his neck. “It’s about someone else.” 

Draco stood up. For a brief second, Harry worried he was going to walk away, but the blond merely took a few steps forwards and sat down next to Harry. It would have been easier to crawl over, but if he had said so Draco would have definitely scoffed and said something along the lines of _‘Malfoys don’t crawl.’_

He leaned against Harry and remained quiet, taking one of Harry’s hands between his. _‘I’m listening,’_ said the gesture, and just like most of the things Draco silently offered, Harry felt compelled to accept.

“I found out something about some people that I know,” he said, simplifying it down to no acts or no names. “Or well, knew in some way,” he corrected, because he didn’t really know his father, as Snape’s memory had proved.

Draco didn’t point out that _that_ said nothing at all, instead trying to complete the idea, “And I’m guessing these are not good things.”

Harry bit back a bitter laugh. “No, they are not.” He frowned at his lap. “It’s something I hadn’t expected, or really considered, and doesn’t fit the idea I had of them. I thought I knew them, but now I don’t know what to think.”

One thumb traced the scars over the back of Harry’s hand. “And what are you going to do?” asked Draco. Harry looked up at him, finding him frowning at the scars.

“What do you think I should do?” 

“What you want, of course,” answered Draco, in the way he said things he considered clear. His silver eyes peered up at Harry. “Surely you have an idea.”

More than an idea, Harry had many questions, some of them not even formulated. Perhaps what he wanted was an explanation, even if what he had seen left no room for excuses. And there were only two people he could think of that could give that to him. “You think I should talk to them?”

“Sounds good.” Harry hummed in consideration and Draco immediately looked at him, silver eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What is it? What are you thinking about?”

Harry pursed his lips. “I need to use the Floo.”

“Alright, so use it-” The blond halted, eyebrows rising in realization before settling into a frown. “No, _absolutely_ not.”

“There’s only one open Floo at Hogwarts,” continued Harry. The idea had already settled on his mind and once that happened there was no going back. “And it’s in _her_ office.”

“So, what, do you want to stroll in and ask her to use it?” Draco shook his head. “Harry, Dumbledore isn’t here anymore to protect you-”

“Ah, but you are here,” pointed Harry, and a little voice on his head told him that that was very manipulative of him. But it worked and Draco fell quiet. Harry didn’t miss the opportunity. “Plus, you told me to do what I want.”

Draco bristled. “That’s because I thought you were talking about someone here. Like Granger, or Weasley, or even his sister, not someone from the outside.” 

“Alright, so I shouldn’t do what I want,” said Harry with fake dejection, and Draco scowled at him even more. Harry just looked back at him without saying anything, watching as his boyfriend’s resolve cracked.

“Fine!” Draco closed his eyes and let his head fall against the wall with a theatrical sigh. “Are all Gryffindors insane or is it just you? I think it’s just you. It always looked like you were dragging Granger and Weasley along.”

Harry smiled. “I’m just following your advice,” he jabbed and watched as Draco’s eyes opened again, peering at Harry through his eyelashes. When Harry kept smiling, he just let out another sigh.

“Damn it, Harry.”

\---

The plan was fairly simple, which surprised Harry, who had been expecting something terribly complicated like those convoluted plans from the spy movies Dudley liked to watch.

Draco had raised an eyebrow. “Sorry if you were expecting fireworks, but all we need is for her to be distracted. Defense is our last class today, so I’ll just intercept her on the way to dinner to discuss my interest in working with the Ministry.” He had uttered the last part as if it were a crime against nature, which was probably true for the Malfoys, that hadn’t worked for god-knows how many generations.

“I’m sure she will like that,” had mumbled Harry, not liking the prospect of seeing Draco follow the minister around like Percy either. Draco had scrunched his nose in distaste and then continued telling him the rest of the plan.

It seemed like it would work, and Harry couldn’t focus all day due to the anticipation. That ended up making him mess up during Potions and Snape, who was definitely still angry about what had happened, didn’t miss the chance to give him extra homeworld.

Umbridge had walked into her class still fuming about Harry’s career advice appointment, where Mcgonagall and her had gotten into an argument whether Harry would join the Aurors or not, so loud he was starting to think they were more invested in his future than he was. 

That was certainly worrying for their prospects of success, but Harry’s eyes had searched for Draco while the woman scribbled down on the board and found a reassuring nod, so he relaxed and sat back, being careful not to fall asleep during class as the clock ticked by slowly. 

As soon as Umbridge dismissed the class, Harry left the room with Ron and Hermione, but parted ways with them just outside with the excuse of going to the bathroom and that he would meet them at the Great Hall. Then he went to stand behind a column, carefully out of sigh.

Not much later, the classroom door opened again, and Umbridge and Draco walked out, the latter wearing his most charming smile as he listened to the woman chatter on. He had promised Harry to buy him some time by making the woman arrive late for dinner, but also told him that he shouldn’t take too long to catch up. _‘Because she’s not stupid, Harry.’_

Harry kept an eye on them as they went down the hall, almost jumping in alarm when two voices spoke behind him. “Well that can’t be easy,” they said in unison and Harry turned around to find the twins looking at him curiously.

“But you should have seen it coming, Harry,” continued Fred rather seriously, his eyes glancing at Draco just as he rounded the corner. “He is a Slytherin, and a Malfoy at that.”

George scowled. “Only that combination could sink so low.”

It took a big effort for Harry to keep quiet instead of jumping at Draco’s defence. Only Ron and Hermione knew the truth, so Ginny and the twins had been extremely pissed when the news of what Draco had done reached their ears. 

“Yeah,” managed Harry, and then scrambled for a way to get out of the conversation. He didn’t have much time. “Listen, I have to go-”

“To Umbridge’s office, yes,” said the twins in unison, snickering when Harry looked at them in surprise. George shook his head. “Come on, Harry, you are talking to us.”

“And you are standing just outside the classroom.” Fred grinned at him. “So what is it, trying to smash her hideous kitten china collection?”

Harry smiled. “That’s a great idea, but no.” He paused a bit, before figuring that there was no reason to distrust the twins. “I need to use her Floo to talk to Sirius.”

“Ah, dear Snuffles.” Fred nodded in approval and exchanged a quick glance with George, who nodded back. With that, Fred grinned at Harry. “Well, lucky for you, we might be able to help with that. We can make sure Umbridge stays away.”

“No, it’s all good-”

George raised a hand. “Nonsense, we actually had something already planned, we would just have to rush a bit but, hey,” he patted Harry on the shoulder, “we would be helping our favourite investor.” 

With that, they walked away, heeding no mind to Harry’s calls that it really wasn’t necessary. They rounded the corner and Harry shook his head, sighed and then rushed into the classroom and up the stairs towards the office.

He took out the knife Sirius had given him for the holidays, said to open any lock. Draco had scrunched his nose and mumbled something about criminals, but also begrudgingly admitted that it was rather useful. Harry still hadn’t told him his exact relation to Sirius, and even if Draco hadn’t asked either, it was obvious that the blond knew they were close.

The lock opened easily and Harry slipped in, closing the door behind him. He ignored the numerous cat plates and walked straight for the fireplace, took a handful of Floo powder, threw it into the fire and said, “Number twelve, Grimmauld Place,” to the green flames. 

It wasn’t Sirius who he first saw in the living room once the connection opened, but Lupin. The man shot up from the couch and strode towards him. “Harry? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I just wanted to talk with you and Sirius.”

Lupin nodded. “I’ll go get him, he is upstairs looking for Kreacher. We think he might be hiding in the attic again.” The man hurried out of the living room, leaving Harry alone before the chimney. He shuffled in place, his knees already beginning to feel numb against the floor. 

Sirius rushed in moments later. “Are you okay?” he asked, and when Harry assured him that nothing had happened, he settled before the chimney and sent him a weird look. “Is this about my cousin?”

“Why would it be-” Harry squeezed his eyes closed. “Kingsley told you.”

“He did,” said Lupin, as diplomatic as ever. When Harry opened his eyes, the man was rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Harry, I really wasn’t expecting-”

“I was!” interrupted Sirius almost triumphantly. He glared at Lupin. “I told you, didn’t I, Remus? I warned all of you that he was a slimy bastard. And you didn’t listen and look at what he did! Played Harry like a fiddle.”

Harry scowled. “That’s not what happened- _Really_ ,” he insisted when the men turned towards him in disbelief. “It’s not what it seems, I swear, I’ll explain later but I don’t have much time now.” He breathed in and looked at them seriously. “I wanted to talk about my father.”

They listened to him as he retold the memory as it had played on Snape’s mind, not disguising his disgust with what he had seen. When he finished, the men exchanged a look, before Lupin let out a sigh. 

“Harry, you have to understand, he was fifteen-”

“I am fifteen!” snapped Harry. “And I don’t go around levitating people just because I’m bored.”

Lupin shook his head. “I’m not trying to justify it, it wasn’t correct. All of us acted badly back then, but a lot of people do when they are young.” He looked at him significantly and Harry _knew_ he was making a point about Draco. 

That made him pause. It was true Draco hadn’t levitated anyone as his father had done, but there was no denying he had been pretty awful. Feeling a sliver of hope, Harry asked them, “But he grew out of it?”

“He did,” said Sirius. “Listen, Snape was no saint either, he didn’t miss any chance he got to curse James, but I’m not proud of what we did, and I’m sure James wouldn’t be either. Your father was a great man, Harry. Don’t judge him just for what you saw, a lot of people are idiots at your age.”

Harry felt comforted by that, but he also didn’t miss the hypocrisy now that it was Sirius the one that said it. “Funny how you didn’t think the same when I told you about Draco.”

“It’s different,” retorted Sirius. “And I was right, wasn’t I?”

“You weren’t.” Harry was starting to feel irritated. “It’s hard to explain and I don’t have much time, but he didn’t betray me or the D.A. He is just making Umbridge believe he did.”

Lupin raised an eyebrow. “Like a double agent?”

“Basically,” said Harry, then frowning at them. “Tell the rest that, and you better stop speaking badly of him, Sirius.” 

“You should hear Molly,” mumbled Lupin, but his face seemed more relaxed now. At least as much as it could, because the man always looked tired. 

Sirius, as expected, didn’t buy it as quickly. “Oh, really?” he said viciously. “So what is dear Draco doing to help?”

“Right now, buying me time to talk to you.” Harry grinned proudly when the man closed his mouth and frowned. “So shut up.”

“Watch your tongue, I’m your godfather.”

Harry barked a laugh. “ _Right_. Listen, I really don’t have time. Dinner is about to begin and if Umbridge doesn’t see me there, she’s going to suspect something.”

“Goodbye, Harry,” said Lupin with a tired smile. “Say hello to the others as well.”

Sirius grinned. “See you, Harry. I hope you recover from the _‘heartbreak’_ your little- Ah, I actually shouldn’t say that. Molly uses _really_ strong words when she is angry.”

“Tell her it’s not like that, alright?” said Harry. Mrs Weasley was very important to him, and the thought of her thinking badly of Draco was awful. He waited until Lupin nodded, because his idiotic godfather only laughed at him, and then pulled away from the fire. 

As he left the classroom behind, his hand went to his pocket. The fake galleon hadn’t shuddered, the sign Draco would send him once it was time to leave, which was odd because Harry felt that he had taken longer than planned. 

He hurried down the halls towards the Great Hall, hoping Umbridge hadn't noticed his absence at dinner yet. He was just a few hallways away when odd noises reached his ears; short-lived and muffled, like gunshots at the distance. 

They sounded like fireworks and seemed to become louder by the second. He froze at the middle of the hall when he realised that the noises were coming from around the corner at the end of it and seemed to be going straight towards him.

And so were other sounds; the fast steps of someone running, almost drowned by the explosions, so loud now that Harry swore they sounded like a growl, and a very distinctive scream of terror. 

"Draco?" he said and as if summoned the blond appeared from around the corner, going so fast he almost crashed into the wall. With panicked arm swings, he recovered his balance and straightened his path, eyes widening when they found Harry. 

"Harry! Harry! Merlin! Oh, Merlin!" It was almost impressive the way he could keep talking even as he ran towards him so fast, robes flowing behind him almost in a straight line. His hair was in disarray and his face white as a sheet. 

Before Harry could open his mouth to ask, in a very alarmed voice, what had happened, the answer came flying around the corner just a few meters behind Draco. Made of red, orange and yellow fireworks, a dragon was on his boyfriend's tail, intangible jaws opening and closing as if wanting to swallow him whole. "What the-?"

The dragon roared, and the way it sounded like a laugh gave Harry enough information to guess what had happened. Draco didn't seem to share his moment of Eureka, because the roar only made him run even faster and soon he had reached Harry.

Only he didn't stop, and Harry's left arm was almost pulled out of its socket when Draco merely grabbed his hand and kept running. "I'm going to kill them! I'm going to kill them" swore the blond, letting out another whimper when the dragon roared again. 

Forced to run with him, Harry felt as if wanting to laugh at how bizarre the situation was. And figuring he didn't have anything to lose, he did, almost stumbling when the force of it made him double over. 

"You are insane!" snapped Draco, and it sounded like he meant it. He didn't slow down at all, which was rather impressive; knowing he came from a wealthy family, Harry didn't expect him to have so much stamina. "You Gryffindors are all insane! This is it! I don't want anything to do with you lot anymore!"

It was probably terrible of him, but that made Harry howl with laughter even louder. And if Draco hadn't been keeping his eyes straight ahead, Harry was sure he would have received an amazing glare. 

Draco made them turn right at the end of the hallway, and a then, taking Harry by surprise, started running towards the right wall. He managed to notice the door seconds before Draco opened it, shoved them inside and slammed it close.

Definitely still filled with energy, Draco frantically started throwing so many locking spells at it Harry was starting to think it might never open again. "Draco," he said, gently lowering his arm. The blond turned his wide eyes towards him. "It's fine, fireworks can't open doors-" Harry barely managed to finish the sentence before another fit of laughter started.

Predictably, Draco gave him the absolutely amazing glare he had probably wanted to give him all the way there. "Do you think this is funny, Potter?" he asked, voice angry but still out of breath. 

"A bit." 

“Well, it’s bloody not!” Draco spun on his heel and then reeled back when he noticed where they were. Harry had recognized the door and already knew what to expect, but Draco hadn’t been there before.

Classroom eleven, out of God knows how many others, was one of the unused rooms at the ground floor and had been recently appointed for Divination since Firenze couldn't climb the stairs up to the previous one. The centaur had made a few changes, meaning that now the room had been turned into a replica of a forest clearing, so real that if it weren't for the door one could forget they were inside the castle. 

The air seemed fresher, the grass was soft and one could almost hear the breeze shaking the trees, but the most redeemable feature was the one over them. "Every class, Firenze has us lay on the floor and look at the stars," explained Harry. "Says that's where the story of mankind is written."

Draco didn't take away his eyes from the ceiling, or where the ceiling should have been but now was a piece of night sky. From what Harry had seen during class, it changed during the day just like the real one. Firenze had made it change for them to see the stars, but now there was no need to change anything and the white dots winked at them.

And so did the red one; Mars. Firenze had said that it usually foretold conflicts, battles, war. His pointed look at Harry hadn't gone unnoticed by him, who already knew what the red planet was referring to. 

"Is he better than Trelawney?" asked Draco, looking down to meet his eyes. It seemed like he had forgotten his anger momentarily.

Harry hummed. "Well, he hasn't predicted my painful death yet, so yes."

"Such low standards," mused Draco. He then glanced up and pointed at a particular star, then moving to the next and so on. "Do you see it?" he asked when Harry stood next to him, following his line of sight. 

Even if Lavender hadn't pointed it out during class, while giving Harry a pitiful look that made him have to bite back a harsh retort, he would have recognised the constellation. How could he not, when it never failed to wink at him from the small patch of night sky pinned to Draco's chest, always bright like him. 

"Draco," he said as an answer, and from the corner of his eye, he caught the twitch of a smile at the corner of his boyfriend's lips. "The Dragon, named after one from Greek mythology, right?"

"I like to think it's called after me." Draco’s voice was so haughty and so serious Harry wasn't sure if it was a joke. 

"If it's something, I only think of you when I look at it, and not of some dragon,” said Harry, being rewarded with a pleased smile. Harry grinned back until he realised something. "Wait, it _is_ a dragon."

Now Draco looked confused. "Yes, it's a dragon," he said slowly. "So?"

"Draco is a dragon, so you are one, and you were just _chased_ by a dragon." Harry snorted. "It's kinda funny, isn't it?"

It was clear, from the glare he received, that Draco didn't share his amusement. "No, it's not funny, Potter.” Draco crossed his arms and scowled at him when Harry smiled. "It's not funny at all! That thing chased me for hours!"

Harry knew it hadn't been hours but was wise enough to not point that out. Instead, he nodded and extended a hand. "Alright, I'm sorry for laughing. Tell me what happened, yes?"

“What happened?” repeated Draco, sounding irritated but still accepting Harry’s hand and letting him guide him closer. “The Weasleys happened, that’s what. One moment I’m about to tell you to get your ass in the Great Hall before Umbridge noticed you are not there, and the next those accursed twins are zooming in with their brooms and unleashing a bloody dragon after me.” 

“Only after you?” Harry knew that the twins were quite pissed at Draco for _‘what he had done’_ , but even then he wouldn’t have expected them to go after him harder than with Umbridge.

Draco glared at him. “I don’t know. I was too busy running for my life.” 

“I’m sure they just wanted to scare you,” said Harry reassuringly, although he wasn’t sure because the twins could be quite vindictive. They had shoved Monteague, another member of the Inquisitorial Squad, inside a weird cabinet when he had tried to remove points from them. “I might be at fault for that.”

His boyfriend let out a sigh, bringing a hand to his dishevelled hair and trying to fix it. “For not telling them the truth? That’s not your fault, it has to remain secret, and it’s entirely expected for them to not take kindly to my _‘backstabbing’._ Besides, they are gone now.”

“No, not that. I ran into them outside the office and, to make it short, they ended up offering to help me distract Umbridge and didn’t take no for an answer-” Harry paused and frowned. “Wait, did you say gone?”

Draco frowned. “Ah, so it _is_ your fault, Potter. And yes, I said gone. Staying at the castle after what they just pulled would be a deathwish. If not expelled, Umbridge would have them in detention for the rest of the year.” 

It was true. Something told Harry the dragon hadn’t been the only thing the twins had unleashed, since it wouldn’t keep Umbridge distracted for too long, and if they had thrown something like that after her, staying wasn’t a good option. But leaving the school…

“Whatever the Weasleys did, I doubt it's your fault either.” Draco’s words cut his line of thought and made him look up. The blond raised an eyebrow. “Those two always seemed like the type to do whatever they please. If they decided to launch an attack, it was probably for a good reason.”

Harry considered the words. Fred and George always played by their own rules. He wasn’t sure what they were planning, but it was probably good. “They did mention that they had been preparing it for a while.”

“Definitely. I have never seen such a stupid dragon,” muttered Draco, sounding reluctantly impressed. “It made an absolute mess of the hall outside the Great Hall. Do you know that wall where all of Umbridge’s signs were hung? Well, the keyword is _were_.” Harry had to grin and was pleased when Draco only rolled his eyes fondly. Then the blond grimaced. “That reminds me, I have to go back. Do you think it’s gone?”

They turned towards the door, Draco nudging Harry to go first and check. Figuring he owned him for having the twins set the thing after him, Harry conceded. “Haven’t heard it in a while,” he said, placing a hand on the doorknob. With a last glance at Draco, he opened it. The hall was empty, the only remains of the fireworks being a faint smell of smoke and burned paper. “The coast is clear.”

“I assume that means there’s nothing outside,” said Draco and Harry added another line to his mental list of sayings wizards didn’t use. If it got any longer, he could write a book and give it to Draco. 

His boyfriend let go of his hand and exited the room, looking both ways as he finished fixing his robes. Then he looked at Harry and extended his arms. “Well, how do I look?”

Harry smiled. “Perfect.” 

“Good answer,” said Draco with a grin. “Before I go, I have to ask.” He seemed to hesitate, biting his lower lip for a moment before continuing, “How did your firecall go? Do you feel more at ease now?”

Harry considered his answer while trying to ignore the bitter reality of not being able to share much with him. “Yes,” he resolved, and it was the truth. He still thought his father’s actions had been terrible, but people did change, just like the boy in front of him had proved. “Thank you, Draco, it helped a lot.”

“Yes, I’m wonderful, I know,” drawled Draco, waving a hand in dismissal. He glanced around the empty hall away and, after a smile, leaned forward to give Harry a short kiss. “I’m glad, Scarhead,” he murmured, then taking a step back. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“I’d say goodnight as well, but you have to go and pick up all those signs.”

Draco smirked. “I was actually planning to make the first years do it.” And with that parting comment, he started walking away. 

“ _Draco_ ,” called Harry, unsure if he meant it. 

The answering laugh didn’t clear anything up, but it made Harry smile to himself again, glad Ron wasn’t around to make some snarky comment about him being smitten. Which, he had to admit, would be completely true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I obssessed about Draco's name being the same as a constellation? Yes. Will I ever stop? No
> 
> And also, fun fact: I love dragons. That's one of the reasons The Goblet of Fire is my favourite movie. 
> 
> Anyways! Hope you liked the chapter! I'll see you on Thursday!


	26. May 18, Saturday: A Big Problem

The final match of Quidditch season found a Gryffindor team that had suffered great losses. Fred and George's final prank had earned them admiration and raised the spirits of the entire castle, but their leave now meant that Gryffindor had lost their beaters, in addition to the Seeker. With Dumbledore gone, there was no one to stop Umbridge from banning Harry from playing.

“I hate her,” muttered Harry to Hermione, glaring at the horrid woman that stood by the entrance to the field along with Filch. The pair was checking the pockets of all students, in the lookout for any Dungbombs, Stinkpellets, or any products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. 

The twins had honoured their word and gave discounts to any student that promised to give Umbridge a terrible time. Seeing her run from one corner of the castle to the other, trying to end whatever firework, fetid bomb or bizarre prank that had been set off did wonders for Harry’s mood, but Fred and George's generosity also brought an issue.

“I heard Parkinson missed all her classes yesterday,” commented Harry as they made their way up the stands. 

“Because she sprouted antlers, yes.” Hermione frowned. “I’m fine with it happening to the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad, but-” Harry didn’t need her to finish, he knew what she meant. 

The Slytherins that had joined the Squad hadn’t helped their reputation with the rest of the Houses, which meant that they were as much a target as Umbridge, perhaps even more. It was fun when the one hit by a curse was, let’s say, Nott, but not when it was one of their...friends?

Harry looked across the field towards the Slytherin stands. The emerald crowd was bumbling with activity, because if Gryffindor lost this match, Slytherin would be taking the Cup. Their last match against Hufflepuff had been a difficult one, due to their captain Montague still being in the Hospital Wing after the vanishing cabinet incident, but they had ended up winning thanks both to Crabbe and Goyle, that had plummeted Zacharias Smith with so many bludger hits that it even distracted Cedric, and to Draco, who had used that split second to his advantage and snatched the snitch and the victory for Slytherin.

“Stop looking for him, someone might notice,” mumbled Hermione, not without a trace of humour in her tone. Harry turned towards her and raised an eyebrow. “You are not exactly discreet, Harry.”

“I could say I’m glaring with hatred or something.”

Hermione snorted. “ _Sure_ . Just for your information, Lavender and Parvati feel terrible for you because,” she clasped her hands and sighed theatrically, “ _‘you are still in love with him despite what he did’._ ” 

Lee Jordan’s booming voice announcing the entrance of the teams saved Harry from having to come up with an answer, but even then he found himself looking for one. _‘Love?’_ he thought, watching but not paying attention to the match. It was weird how a four-letter word could feel so heavy, and more concerning than Voldemort’s name. It was also infuriating how Lavender and Parvati could throw it around so easily when Harry felt ready to combust.

Love. What Dumbledore was convinced had saved him when he was a baby, but it couldn’t be the same one. The love the girls had been referring to had to be more like the one Ron’s parents felt for each other. _‘Is that what I feel?’_ His gaze went looking for Draco again, stopping at the faraway figure just as a goal was scored and the crowd cheered. Even from there, Harry could picture the smile on Draco’s face, and he wondered.

“Harry, Hermione,” came a whisper that startled him out of his thoughts. They turned around to find Hagrid and Harry didn’t understand how they hadn’t seen him before. The Groundskeeper sported another bruise and looked nervous. “Can you come with me?”

\---

The match was long over and the sun had already set by the time Harry and Hermione made their way to the Tower. 

“A giant,” mumbled Hermione again, as if trying to make herself believe it. Harry didn’t blame her because he hadn’t been expecting Hagrid to be keeping his brother hidden in the forest either, but it wasn’t a good idea to be saying that aloud.

He glanced around the empty hallway. “Hermione, I get it that you are surprised, and me too, but keep quiet,” he said. 

Hermione’s face was still pale. “Harry, don’t you understand? This is terrible! A giant in the forest! Oh my god.” She gestured frantically. “Do you have any idea of how many ways things could go wrong? Giants’ violent nature has been widely recorded, Hagrid-” She ran a hand through her hair as she kept ranting and Harry was reminded of Draco.

God. Draco would be even more upset than Hermione. He would call Hagrid insane, to which Harry wouldn’t be able to argue against this time, and then call Harry insane too for agreeing to _‘watch over Grawp’_ if Hagrid left, to which Harry couldn’t argue against either. 

But it was all a hypothetical situation because Harry couldn’t tell him about that just as he couldn’t tell him so many other things. “I hate this,” muttered Harry, and Hermione nodded in agreement despite not knowing what he meant. 

They walked up the stairs in silence, and just before the painting Hermione gave him a worried look. “Do you think they won?” she asked, nodding her head towards the entrance. 

Harry hummed. Fay wasn’t a bad Beater, and she had been training with them since forever, but Andrew Kirk was a completely new addition. And Harry had never seen Ginny play before, and Ron was still making a lot of mistakes as Keeper. “I hope so,” he told Hermione truthfully, and the girl grimaced and told the Fat Lady the password.

They were welcomed by a burst of red and yellow and a crowd of people taking every available space of the room in a loud celebration. Ron and Ginny spotted them rather quickly, both excusing themselves from the congratulations the team was receiving to meet them at the entrance. “We won!” said Ginny. Her hair was all blown out but she seemed ecstatic as she hung an arm around his brother. “Ron did amazing! Did you see? The last save, oh Godric!” 

Ron laughed and hugged her back. “And did you see her catch? She left Cho in the dust! She was so angry she threw her broom!” He raised a finger at Harry. “You better watch out, your spot is not so sure anymore.”

Ginny snorted. “Of course not.” She gave Harry a grin. “You are way better than me, and I prefer to play Chaser.” 

“But, Harry,” said Ron, now with a slight frown. “What are you doing here?”

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione, who seemed confused by the question too. “Well, Ron, I live here,” he said.

Ron tilted his yeah. “Yeah, but I thought you would be-” He glanced at Ginny carefully. “You know.” When Harry only gestured at him to keep going, Ron sighed. “You know, the Hospital Wing? Or did you already go?”

“Why would I-”

“Why would he go to the Hospital Wing?” asked Ginny, dropping her arm from Ron’s shoulder to cross both of them. “He lost _nothing_ there,” she said rather harshly.

Hermione frowned. “What’s in the Hospital Wing?”

“What do you mean?” Ron blinked at her. “You saw, right? It was right after the match ended.” Hie frowned when they didn’t answer. “You didn’t see?”

“Ron, we had to leave the match,” said Hermione carefully, gesturing wildly when the ginger looked betrayed. “We had to, it was an emergency. Hagrid-”

“We’ll tell you later,” interrupted Harry. It wasn’t something they should speak about freely when they were surrounded by people. “But first tell us, what happened?”

Ginny laughed. “Oh, you should have seen it. There was a scuffle at the end because the Slytherins were angry about losing the cup, and the entire Inquisitorial Squad got jinxed-”

“What?!” Harry looked at Ron in alarm. “What jinxes? Is Draco okay?”

“I’m sure he is, mate,” said Ron. “I mean, no one would throw anything nasty, right?”

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione. “I have to go see him,” he said and she nodded in agreement. “Please tell Ron about Hagrid, I’ll be back soon.”

“What do you mean you have to go see him?” Harry turned around, finding Ginny giving him an incredulous look. “Harry, don’t tell me- After all he did?!” she asked harshly. “Shouldn’t you be happy he got what he deserved?”

That was completely wrong “He did nothing!” snapped Harry, feeling a bit guilty when Ginny looked betrayed. The girl didn’t know anything, so it was understandable that she was confused, but Harry didn't have time to explain. “Ron, Hermione, can you-?”

Ron nodded. “Sure, mate, just go.” He then pulled Ginny aside and Harry sped up the stairs to grab his cloak. 

On his way down, Harry passed by a still bitter-looking but more subsided Ginny, that sat with her arms crossed on a couch listening to Ron’s whispers. Hermione waited for him by the entrance and told him to be careful before he left.

As he ran to the Hospital Wing, Harry reminded himself that it probably wasn’t anything grave, or else Ron would have mentioned it. If anything, Draco probably had a pair of antlers like the ones Parkinson had sported. 

He passed by the door to Pomfrey’s room and then next to the occupied beds very quietly. He glanced at the sleeping occupants, noticing one Crabbe with flippers for ears, a Goyle with painful looking blisters and a Parkinson with another pair of antlers. By all their pillows laid beets that Harry recognized as the ones Luna wore to keep nargles away. She had probably visited them.

Unlike his friends, Draco was not asleep but instead reading from a book on his lap with the faintest Lumos his wand could provide. He looked up in alarm, probably confusing Harry’s steps for Pomfrey's, and frowned when he saw nothing. Then he almost jumped out of bed when Harry removed his father’s cloak. 

“What the-!” The blond brought a hand to his mouth to stifle his own reaction and looked around as if to check no one heard. Going back to Harry, he removed his hand and hissed, “Since when do you have an invisibility cloak? And what are you doing here?”

Harry went to stand next to him, looking for any injuries. There were no antlers, or flippers, or blisters. “Are you okay?” he whispered. “I heard you were jinxed.”

“You heard?” Draco tilted his head, then blinking. “Ah, right, you left just after the match began.”

“You saw?” asked Harry. He wasn’t worried about Draco seeing him leave with Hagrid, but the possibility someone else did.

Draco shrugged. “What can I say, you are rather eye-catching.” He grinned at him, rolling his eyes when Harry didn’t grin back. “She didn’t see you leave, but you should be more careful, you know.” He wasn’t asking why he left, just as he never asked anything, and Harry should feel relieved by that but only felt bitter.

“But, are you alright?”

“I just got hit with a Jelly-Leg Curse, but Pomfrey refused to let me out of her watch in case I got hit with something else.” Draco sighed. “I got lucky, really. Did you see Pansy’s antlers? She was so upset about them. Vincent didn’t really mind the flippers, but Greg kept scratching his blisters so Pomfrey had to give him a Sleeping Draught.” He looked at another bed further away. “And Theo got hit with a Tongue-Tying curse, quite painful.”

Harry hummed, figuring it wouldn’t be nice of him to say he had no sympathy for Nott. The boy irked him in the wrong way, and there was still the issue of his discussion with Draco. “I’m glad you are okay,” he said honestly. 

Draco looked at him funny. “Did you run all the way here because you heard I got jinxed? Wow, Harry,” he smiled, “I feel loved.”

Again that four-letter word that made Harry glance away and scramble his brain for something else to say. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You shouldn’t be going through this, it’s my fault-” He was interrupted by a groan and looked back to find Draco giving him a bored look.

“Spare me, Harry. This isn’t your fault, you didn't’ jinx me. In fact, the one who did was a brute called McLaggen, so perhaps you could jinx him back for me.” Draco grinned at him and held out his hand. “Now give me your cloak, I want to look at it.” 

Harry did as he asked and sat down next to him while he examined the cloak. “Merlin, I wanted one of these but my father didn’t budge,” said Draco, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “What is it made of? Demiguise?”

Harry scratched his neck. “I don’t know,” he admitted because when he had received it he had just a few months in the wizarding world and didn’t stop to question anything. “It was my father’s.”

Draco looked at him, his silver eyes wide in surprise before softening. “I see,” he said, giving Harry a smile as he returned the cloak. “In that case, it must be very special; Demiguise cloaks don’t usually last so long.” 

“Yeah,” said Harry, looking down at it for a second. It was warm. Then he looked up and returned the smile. “Yeah, thank you,” he said, reaching to hold Draco’s hand in his. It was warm too and Harry couldn’t resist the impulse to bring it to his lips and kiss it. 

“Harry, I’m not _dying_ ,” said Draco, but he looked rather pleased when Harry glanced at him. “ _Really_. So you can go back before someone sees you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you would be _dying_ from envy after your crushing defeat.” He grinned at him. “Gryffindor wins again.”

“Oh, shut up, Potter.” Draco removed his hand from his grasp and tilted up his chin defiantly. “You’ll see, next year you will end up in the last place. I swear you will, even if I have to do it by myself.” 

“In your dreams, Malfoy.” Harry snorted when Draco glared at him, before leaning in to kiss him slowly, enjoying the sensation. “In your dreams,” he murmured against his lips, feeling the air that left Draco when he huffed and then the hand that reached for his face.

Draco kissed him again, relaxing against him when Harry rounded his waist with an arm. After what could be either several minutes or an hour, he pulled back and smiled at him, so fondly that it made Harry’s heart skip. “You have made your point, Harry,” he whispered. “Now do leave before Pomfrey comes back to check on Montague.”

“Still unresponsive?” asked Harry absentmindedly. Draco was wearing grey pyjamas, of a very soft fabric that could only be silk. They were only pyjamas, but for some reason, Harry found them terribly distracting, just like his neck.

“I saw him get him spoon-fed today. Honestly, poor guy, no one knows what happened to him.”

Harry looked up. “Is he your friend?”

“He’s not a bad captain,” said Draco, one of his hands going up to Harry’s hair. “It’s getting long again.” He hummed and then frowned when Harry bit his own lip. “What is it?”

“Listen, you didn’t hear this from me.” Harry smiled when Draco raised an eyebrow as if that were obvious. “But I heard that Monteague was shoved inside that Vanishing Cabinet from the first floor.”

Draco’s eyes went wide. “What? Merlin, who-” He narrowed his eyes. “It was the cursed twins, right? That's why you are telling me this.”

“Maybe,” conceded Harry, receiving a glare. "I can’t say much, but perhaps that information could help? Sorry about your friend.”

“Stop apologizing for things you haven’t done, Scarhead.” Draco sighed. “I’ll tell Pomfrey. She won’t run to Umbridge but knowing what happened to him will help her cure him,” he said, and then kissed Harry again. “Thank you. Now leave.”

Harry reluctantly let go of him and stood up, but placed his hands on the bed and leaned in. “I’ll go, but stop reading and go to sleep,” he whispered.

“Ah, so concerned with my well-being,” mused Draco. He smiled up at Harry and sighed after he kissed him one last time. “And a goodnight kiss, how thoughtful. Consider me wooed.” He shook his head and placed his book and wand on the table by his bed. “Alright, I’ll go to sleep. Happy?”

“Very,” said Harry, standing up again and unfolding his cloak. “Goodnight, Draco.” 

“Goodnight, Harry.” Draco watched as Harry disappeared once again. “And you are still not gone, I know that. I can hear you.” 

With a snort, Harry turned around and walked away, looking over his shoulder as Draco waved at the air before settling down to sleep. The last thing Harry saw before exiting through the door was the blond covered up to his chin with the sheets. It was cute, and Harry found himself thinking about the four-letter word again. 

_‘Goodnight, Draco,’_ he whispered again to himself before going back to the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have noticed, yes, there are four chapters left and I'm fully panicking! (No, I'm fine (read; I'm not))
> 
> Anyways! Hope you liked the chapter, it's a bit short haha
> 
> As usual comments and kudos are very very welcome, and I'll see you on Monday!
> 
> PD: Can we talk about Montague? Because in the books Fred and George just shove him inside the Cabinet and the guy disappears for like days and reappears inside a toilet? And then he has to be transferred to Saint Mungo's because he is still like extremely confused? The book even mentions his parents going to Hogwarts. 
> 
> The thing that bothers me is that the Gryffindors knew what had happened to him and no one said anything to Pomfrey, even when it was valuable information that could have helped his recovery. And no one even worries or feels bad about the guy (The exception being Hermione, but she doesn't tell the teachers either)
> 
> Idk, sorry about the rant, I just found this while re-reading the book and thought it was AWFUL! He could have gotten horribly hurt. In the sixth book, Draco even mentions that Montague had to Apparate himself to escape the Cabinet and nearly died doing it.


	27. June 5, Wednesday: No Time To Lose

"Harry, are you listening to me?" 

Harry looked down, meeting Draco's annoyed silver gaze. It was sort of impressive how he could look so serious while resting his head on his lap. "I am," he said automatically and reached to move a stray blond strand that was threatening to fall in Draco's eyes, which narrowed at him in disbelief.

"Then what did I say?"

"You said-" Harry scrambled his brain for an answer.  _ He was talking about Potions... _ "Something about the side effects of Polyjuice?" 

"Which are...?" 

Harry scrunched his nose. "It has an awful taste," he offered with a grin that Draco didn’t return. "Alright, fine, I wasn't listening."

"Obviously." With a sigh, Draco closed his book and sat up, giving his back to Harry for a second before turning to look at him. "Why are you not paying attention to me?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking. It's your birthday-" 

"Which is why you should pay even more attention to me." 

Harry snorted. "Yes, but is it okay for you to spend it like this?" He gestured at the alcove and the pile of books Draco had brought. "Studying?" 

"Scarhead." Draco gave him a deadly serious look. "The exams begin next week. There's no time to lose." 

“But aren’t I slowing you down? Maybe-”

"No, I'm not going to study alone. It's my birthday." Draco raised a hand to stroke Harry's cheek and smiled. "And I want to spend it with you. So," he frowned, "Stop daydreaming and listen to me. Professor Snape is not going to let you take his classes next year unless you get an  _ Outstanding _ ."

Harry grimaced again. There was a chance Snape wouldn't let him take his classes even if he got two O's.

"Plus," continued Draco, opening his book once again."This is only one birthday, I'll have more." 

_ More _ . Harry couldn't help but smile. "And what would you like to do on the next one?" he asked, watching as Draco laid down to rest his head on his lap again. 

"Probably the same, since the NEWTS are quite difficult as well." Draco grinned up at him and Harry couldn't help but lean down and capture that grin with his lips. It was a bit uncomfortable for his back but completely worth it. 

Draco blinked up at him when they parted and followed him as he sat up. "Harry," he said, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

"Yes?" asked Harry, taking the book from Draco's hand and placing it aside, on top of the pile.

"Do you remember the day after your little army was found?" asked Draco, looking at him rather seriously.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Then," Draco's voice seemed up to something, "Where are my three gifts? I have only received one." 

Harry glanced at said gift, a leather-bound blue book peering out of Draco’s bag. It had taken him a while to settle for a book and he had gone to Hermione for help, since she knew more of the subject. She had first suggested buying one on Numerology, but he had gifted her the same one last year and that didn’t feel right, so he had spent quite some time on Hogsmeade looking at a number of advanced Potions books before deciding for one. 

_ ‘South-American Ingredients and Uses _ ’ had received Hermione’s seal of approval, since knowing of uncommon ingredients was apparently essential for the NEWT level courses, but Harry had still felt a bit nervous while delivering it.

Draco had unwrapped it without tearing the paper, somehow, and taken his time examining it while Harry awaited his judgment. Then the blond had looked up and given him a bright smile that melted his worries away. The book had Draco's seal of approval too. Well done, author!

_ ‘But I did agree to three gifts, _ ’ thought Harry, eyes flickering back to Draco. The blond was looking at him expectantly, but Harry caught the amused glint in his pretty eyes and knew that he was just being teased again. Figuring he could fight back, he shrugged. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You are a terrible liar, you know?” Draco poked at the corner of Harry’s mouth with a finger and raised an eyebrow. “Next time try not to grin while lying, just some advice.”

Harry moved quickly and kissed his fingertip, effectively catching the blond off guard. Taking advantage of Draco's startlement, he captured his hand and held it close to his chest. “Alright, I forgot, I’m terribly sorry,” he said gravely. “Will you  _ ever  _ forgive me?”

Draco hummed. “Depends on what you are planning to do to make up for it.”

“Anything you want,” said Harry and the grin that he received made it clear that it had been exactly what his boyfriend wanted to hear.

“For one gift, you will owe me one,” said Draco predictably. Harry snorted. That was starting to become a catchphrase.  _ 'Ah, Slytherins.' _

“Alright, I owe you one. But that’s one gift, what about the other one?”

Draco pursed his lips and glanced away. "There's one thing," he said, an odd uncertainty in his voice that made Harry raise an eyebrow. 

"What is it?"

The tips of Draco’s ears were bright pink but his eyes seemed determined when he looked at Harry again. Without a word, he moved closer and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, which was familiar, but then he raised to his knees and shifted until each was on either side of his hips.

Harry felt his throat go dry as he looked up at Draco, who seemed to be waiting for him. Harry nodded because even if he wasn't entirely sure of what would happen, all he heard in his mind was a chorus of  _ Yes _ , that grew louder when Draco finally sat down, straddling his lap.

"Is this fine?" asked Draco in a hushed voice, despite no one being around. His hands travelled up to cradle Harry's face gently, holding him in place just like his magnetic silver gaze did.

It took a moment for Harry to remember how to speak, but when he did his words were blurted out as quick as they could be, "Yes, yes, fine. Very fine."

Draco let out a huff of laughter. His silver eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement and then fluttered shut as he closed the distance between their lips. Harry didn't know what to do with his hands at first, but there was a tongue poking at his and something akin to impatience made him wrap his arms around Draco's narrow waist.

It was different, feeling Draco on top of him, guiding his face up into a kiss while seeming to sink lower on his lap, the contact making Harry groan. It felt good, so good Harry refused to stop for more than a second to recover his breath before continuing. 

His hands travelled up and down Draco’s back, always so elegant, aristocratic and poised, and now warm and alluring under his touch. He tightened his grasp, wanting to feel it completely, wishing with urgency that the soft shirt wasn’t there, and a moan escaped Draco’s lips, muffled by the kiss but still echoing loudly in Harry’s head. 

Thin fingers found the hair at the base of his head and Harry stopped counting the time, instead counting every sigh and groan, every graze of tongue and scrap of teeth. On a whim, he shifted away from the wall so he could press Draco flush against him, and the blond wrapped an arm around his neck and melted with a pleased sound. 

The temperature of the room seemed to be rising as their hands were everywhere, touching, groping. Heat started to pool in the base of Harry's stomach once again, making him feel like his pants were too tight. "Draco," he managed to murmur between kisses.

The blond hummed in response but didn't stop, and Harry had to be the one to break apart. He watched as the blond’s eyes opened, his own breath hitching when he saw how dark they looked. With his usually impeccable hair messy and his pale lips reddened and covered in spit, Harry thought that he had never looked so attractive. 

"What?" asked Draco, managing to sound rightfully annoyed despite his breathy voice. When Harry didn't say anything, the blond placed a hand on his chest and leaned down to kiss his cheek, all the way to his ear to whisper, "Harry."

Harry gulped. "Yes?" One of his hands had finally found rest in the small of the other's back and refused to move, but the other went up to hold Draco's arm with no purpose other than to touch him. 

"I really like you," murmured Draco, his breath hot against the shell of his ear. If Harry wasn't struck before, he definitely was now. Struck by his voice, low, posh and just for him.

He turned his face to press his lips against Draco's slender neck. The blond kept his face hidden but tilted his head sideways, letting him kiss the freckles over the pale skin of his jaw and down his throat. Harry felt Draco sigh against his cheek before retreating, resting his hands on Harry's shoulders to look at him.

His silver eyes were fixed on him, as if wanting to see through his very soul, and Harry felt a mixture of fear and anticipation at whatever he might do next. But instead of kissing him again, Draco smiled and turned around, until he was sitting between Harry's legs with his back resting against his chest, where his heart was still beating loudly.

Then Draco reached for the book he had been reading from the top of the pile. "Alright," he said after clearing his throat, "the side effects of Polyjuice might include-"

A startled laugh left Harry. "And we are back to study just like that?"

"I told you, Scarhead. No time to lose," said Draco, but Harry could still see the redness of his ears and nape. 

He hummed and wrapped his arms around him, feeling Draco relax against his front. "Where did  _ that _ come from anyway?" he asked.

"It's just something I thought about," said Draco, pointedly passing the pages of the book. "We are dating, after all."

Harry let out a nervous laugh, not sure of where it was coming from. He felt like gulping again, but there was another question on his mind and he cleared his throat before asking, almost quietly, “And is there more?” 

He felt Draco’s back stiffen, his shoulders jerking up as if surprised. But he kept looking at his book and cleared his throat. “Perhaps,” he mumbled, something he usually didn’t do and made Harry blink at the back of his blond head. 

Harry, who wasn’t sure of what he was asking, felt his blood rush at the answer and only managed to hum in agreement. _ ‘God, maybe I do need to talk to someone. _ ’ But who and how awkward would that conversation be? Mrs Weasley- no, no way. And Sirius...wasn’t probably a smart choice? That only left Lupin but Harry wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye afterwards. 

“But-” Draco’s slightly higher than usual voice broke Harry’s line of thought. Harry could see the pink colour tainting his cheeks. “Not now of course. All I’m thinking about are the OWLs.” 

“Of course,” agreed Harry. He sighed and placed his cheek against Draco’s, feeling the blond relax once again. “Let’s leave that for after the exams-” Draco hummed and Harry backtracked, “Not immediately, no-”

Draco laughed. “Yes, alright.” He turned his head so Harry could see his face. He was smiling. “No need to be nervous.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry kissed his cheek and then fell back to rest against the wall just like Draco rested against his chest. “And tell me the side effects of Polyjuice.”

“How can I possibly do that if you ask me to shut up?” teased Draco, who then started laughing when Harry squeezed him. "So demanding. Alright, as I was saying while you weren’t listening…”

If studying was going to be like this from now on, Harry could see himself becoming a fanatic like Hermione or the wonderful blond boy in his arms. Feeling content, Harry listened to every boring word. After all, it  _ was  _ Draco’s birthday, and he had to pay attention. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so you can probably guess what will happen next chapter...
> 
> Anyway! Hope you liked the chapter! Kinda short but the next one will be way longer haha
> 
> As usual, kudos and comments are very very appreciated, and I'll see you on Thursday!


	28. June 20, Thursday: Backstabbing.

The O.W.Ls were spread in two weeks, with most classes having both a theoretical and practical part. Harry had never seen the student body so tense, not even when Sirius had been spotted on the ground during their third year. And talking about their third year, all students looked as if they had been around a Dementor for too long.

“You know what?” said Dean as they had lunch. “Maybe I don’t have to keep studying, I could just leave it like your brothers, Ron.”

Ron chuckled. “Right, and your mom will kill you as well.” 

“There’s only one exam left, Dean. No point leaving now,” said Seamus. It was the last day of the examinations, with only History of Magic to go. It would be the only exam of the day for them, unlike Hermione who had just returned from her Arithmancy test.

Harry examined his friend, whose hair looked like she had passed her hands through it a lot. “How was it?” he asked while glancing at the Slytherin table. Draco seemed tired as well, waving Blaise’s questions off while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Definitely the toughest one yet, but I’m sure I managed,” Hermione’s smile turned into a grin, “And I’m sure _he_ managed too, but I’m going to beat him anyway.”

Harry grinned. “Watch out, he might take your spot as the smartest person in my life.”

“Harry Potter, you take that back right now,” she hissed, drawing the attention of the rest. “Or I will-”

“Not help me study? Got that covered.”

“You are becoming insufferable,” muttered Hermione against the rim of her cup. She shook her head and sighed. “Ron was right.”

“I’m not sure of what you are talking about, but thank you,” said Ron. Then he saw Hermione nod towards the Slytherin table and grinned. “Ah, yes. Completely insufferable.”

Harry snorted. “Well, get used to it.” He tapped his fingers on his cup and looked towards the Slytherin table again, where Draco was reading from a book instead of having lunch despite Parkinson’s pestering. “Yeah, you two better get used to it.”

There was a gagging sound and Harry turned to glare at Ron, who had the nerve to grin at him while Hermione chuckled. Seamus and Dean shared a glance, definitely not understanding the conversation at all. 

Once lunch was over, all students from their year went back to their common rooms or the library and did last-minute study sessions until it was time to return to the Great Hall. Like it had occurred with the other exams, the four long tables had disappeared and been replaced by a multitude of individual desks with overturned papers on top of them. 

As he waited for the exam to begin, Harry tapped his fingers on the desk and glanced around. Draco was sitting near the wall, fiddling with his quill, and happened to turn around just as Harry looked at him. The blond blinked and raised an eyebrow. _‘What?’_

Harry shook his head and smiled, having to refrain from laughing when Draco theatrically rolled his eyes before giving him a brief smile. Their exchange was put to an end when Professor Tofty, one of the examiners sent for the sole purpose of watching over the OWLS, cleared his throat.

“Turn over your papers.” His voice had definitely been subjected to a Sonorous to reach the entire Hall, since the man was quite small. “You might begin now.” Just as he finished saying that, there was a massive shuffle of papers as everyone did so.

One look at the first question was enough to tell that the exam would be as boring as the class itself. Already starting to feel sleepy, Harry rubbed his eyes and read the question again. Despite Hermione’s notes and the hours he had studied along with Draco, it was a bit hard to remember so many dates and names. _‘Well, it’s not as if I planned to continue this class anyway,'_ thought Harry as he skipped the second question. And Draco wasn’t planning to continue it either, unlike Hermione, who, as usual, was ready to take as many classes as she could. 

But still, he didn’t want to fail too badly anyway, so with that small comfort, he went on to the next question. _‘The Goblin Riots,’_ he hummed and bit the end of his quill as he tried to remember if wand legislation had been a good or bad thing. _‘No, next one.’_

He went on like that, writing what he remembered of every question, sometimes just two or three lines, and one miraculous time, even six. The sunrays entered the room through the large windows and the heat, along the lulling of quills scraping against paper and the tedious subject, was making Harry’s eyelids feel heavier. 

And the fact that he hadn’t slept much last night due to another dream of the corridor wasn’t helping. He dragged his hand over his face forcefully and tried to focus on the tenth question. It was about the International Confederation of Wizards. _‘I think Hermione mentioned something,’_ thought Harry, letting his face rest in one hand. _‘What was it?_ He closed his eyes, trying to remember. _‘Something about trolls? Think, Harry.'_

He squeezed his eyes shut and the light that had made the back of his eyelids look orange disappeared. _‘Think,’_ he thought again. It was dark, and a cloud must have passed because the day felt cooler. _‘Think.'_

He opened his eyes. It was still dark, and he was walking down the long corridor of the Department of Mysteries again. The door opened to another corridor and at the end of it was a room with many shelves, filled to the top with white spheres that looked like Trelawney’s crystal balls.

There were people waiting for him, all standing in a circle, faces hidden behind masks and bodies covered in dark robes. And in the middle, face bruised, lip busted and blood trailing down from his nose was a man with long dark hair. Harry wanted something from him, but he refused.

“You’ll have to kill me first,” whispered Sirius. And a cruel laugh left Harry’s lips, the sound followed by a curse and Sirius’ screams of pain. Someone else was screaming too and the heat of the day had returned, especially in his scar, that burned, and only then Harry realised it was him.

\---

He had been guided out of the Great Hall by Professor Tofty, who suggested he went to the Hospital Wing. Harry did, because he was too worried about Sirius to care about going back to the stupid exam. He had run up the stairs. Professor McGonagall had been sent to the Hospital Wing the day before after she had been attacked for helping Hagrid when Umbridge and some others had tried to arrest him. He needed to talk to her, the only member of the Order at Hogwarts.

But McGonagall wasn’t there. She had been sent to Saint Mungo's and Harry had run back to the Great Hall, with his mind going a mile per hour trying to find a way to reach Sirius before he was killed.

And now he was growing as desperate as angry because Hermione doubted every word that came out of his mouth. “I know what I saw!” he snapped, cutting her off. They were in a classroom on the first floor, away from preening ears, but Ron still glanced around warily as if to check no one had heard his outburst.

“But,” Hermione’s hands were clasped in front of her, “Harry, it _has_ to be a trap-” 

“So we let him die?!” yelled Harry, making the girl flinch.

Ron stepped forwards, raising his hands in a placating motion. “Mate, you have to understand, it does look like a trap, we are not sure-”

“He is being tortured right now!” Harry couldn’t understand why they didn’t get it. Sirius was dying as they spoke. Why didn’t they understand? “It’s not a dream. It’s just like the vision I had with your dad!” He felt something like malicious triumph when Ron’s face blanched at the mention of his father, and he continued, “We have to go and-”

“But we have to make sure he is there first!” cut in Hermione, her hands tightened in fists. “Harry, please, let’s check Sirius is not safe first. Maybe it’s all a-”

“It’s not a fucking dream!” 

“Still!” There was a plea in Hermione’s brown eyes. “Listen, let’s use Umbridge’s Floo, call Grimmauld Place and then,” she gulped, “If he’s not there, we will help you, we will go. But, Harry, please.”

Harry wanted to yell at her. “And how-”

“Ask Draco!" interrupted Hermione, rushing to explain before Harry could protest, "You still have that fake galleon, right? We just need him to distract Umbridge for a while. Just for five minutes while you call Sirius!” 

Draco, just like the rest of the fifth year students, had seen Harry fall from his desk and scream like a madman, so it was no surprise the galleon had shuddered and left a message not long after. On his race to the Hospital Wing and then back to the Hall, Harry hadn’t seen it, but there it was now. ' _Are you alright?_ ’ it said and Harry felt like laughing because he really wasn’t. 

Instead, he hurried and made the message change. _‘Distract Umbridge’_ was short, rude and didn’t explain anything and the answer that came back was an even shorter _‘Fine’_ but Harry felt reassured enough to go with Hermione's plan. 

He ran back to the Common Room to get Sirius' knife, and then back again to meet Ron and Hermione near the Defense Classroom. “I’ll keep watch,” said Ron quickly and Harry was running again with Hermione on his tail. He was feeling out of breath, but he couldn’t stop, not with Sirius-

The door to Umbridge’s office opened as quickly as it did the first time, and Harry ran in even quicker, his knees hitting the stone just as the green flames lit up and he yelled the name. His head was across it in a second and he was now looking at the dusty carpet floor of Grimmaul’s Place living room. 

“Sirius!” he called. “Are you there?” He could hear steps approaching, the hope quickly dying when Kreacher came into view. His ugly face looked terribly pleased and that didn’t sit well with Harry. “Where is Sirius?”

Kreacher chuckled. “Master is not here.”

“Where is he? Where has he gone?” asked Harry. The elf only laughed again and Harry wanted nothing more but to get across and punch him. He felt the galleon shudder in his pocket but shrugged it off. “Kreacher, I’m warning you! What about Lupin? Is anyone else there?”

“There’s no one but Kreacher!” said the elf with delight, letting out another laugh. “Kreacher is alone. Master has gone! Master won’t return from the Department of Mysteries!” With that, the elf scurried away, back to the shadows he came from. 

Harry felt like cursing, but before he could even raise his voice he was pulled back from the flames and into the horrid pink office, right towards Umbridge’s livid face. “Who were you speaking to?!” she hissed, dragging him to his feet by the collar.

“No one,” muttered Harry. His wand had already been taken from him by Umbridge and a scuffle to his right told him Hermione had been captured too. 

“Liar!” yelled Umbridge, violently throwing him to the floor. Harry's head hit the desk painfully, but now he could see the office clearly. Umbridge was standing in front of him, pointing her wand at him in a clear threat, and in a corner of the room stood Parkinson, holding Hermione by the arm while her dark eyes were fixed on Harry in annoyment. The door opened seconds later, and in walked more members of the Squad. Warrington dragged Ron inside by the shoulder and was followed by Nott and Bulstrode pointing their wands at the backs of Neville and Ginny. 

“They tried to help him,” muttered Nott, jerking his head towards Ron, and Harry had never wanted to punch him in the nose so much, but he was quickly distracted from his anger when Draco walked in along Crabbe and Goyle. The blond's eyes widened when he saw Harry on the floor and Umbridge towering over him, but he remained behind with the rest of the Squad while the woman started questioning Harry again. 

“I talked to no one,” repeated Harry, not bothering to conceal his hatred from his tone.

Umbridge wasn’t hiding her dislike for him either. “Well,” she said in her fake sweet voice. “If you don’t speak freely, then we will have to try other ways. Draco,” she addressed the blond, “Please go fetch Professor Snape.”

Behind her back, four Slytherins were nodding at each other. “The professor must be busy right now,” said Draco, his voice calm and unwavering as he took out his wand from his pocket.

“That doesn’t matter,” snapped Umbridge. Her tone conveyed her confusion at Draco not jumping to follow her orders like he usually did, and without another word she looked down at Harry, her instincts telling her something was wrong. Their eyes met and hers widened in alarm before she spun around with her wand.

It was too late; three stunning spells hit her right in the chest. Warrington and Bulstrode jumped in alarm and turned towards Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, but Parkinson and -to Harry’s puzzlement- a reluctant Nott already had their wands raised. "I'd rather not do the same to you," said Parkinson but her wand didn't lower an inch.

There was a moment of tense silence as the Slytherins shared a wordless conversation, and then Warrington and Bulstrode exchanged a look, glanced at the unconscious form of Umbridge and finally shrugged. "Not my problem," grunted Warrington, letting go of Ron and walking away from the baffled boy.

Bulstrode gave her housemates one last disapproving look before turning around and following Warrington, closing the door behind them.

"So loyal," mumbled Ginny. It was honestly startling to see people dropping matters as Warrington and Bulstrode had done, but Harry was glad they did. 

"Aren't they going to tell?" whispered Neville, definitely confused by their exit, but the remaining Slytherins didn't seem concerned about that at all. 

Draco hadn't even waited for Umbridge to hit the floor before approaching Harry and was already helping him to his feet. “She had an alarm here," he explained. "We couldn’t stop her."

Parkinson let go of Hermione, giving the girl back her wand. “Why are you here anyway?” she asked Harry harshly, making it clear that her earlier annoyment hadn’t been an act. “And you better have a plan, Potter, because we are getting expelled for sure.”

That made Harry snap back to it. To Sirius. He grabbed Draco by the shoulders, not sure if he did it to reassure him or himself. “I have to go to the Ministry.”

“ _What_?” Draco frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s Sirius,” said Harry urgently. He didn’t care that Nott and Parkinson were there to listen, there was no time for discretion. “He is in danger, I have to go to the Department of Mysteries.” 

“Why?”

“They are torturing him, and I-”

“Harry, stop!” snapped Draco. His hands closed around Harry’s arms firmly, as if trying to fix him in place forever. “You can’t just _run_ into the Ministry.”

Harry didn’t want to feel angry at him, but he was starting to do so. “I can and I will,” he muttered. “I can’t just sit here while he dies-”

“Why do you even think he is there?” 

“I just know!” Harry shrugged him off and took a step towards the exit, but was cut off by Draco again. The blond stood on his way, looking angry and confused, but Harry had no time to explain, none at all. 

“What do you mean you _just know_? Have you-” Draco halted his words, his eyes flickering towards the still lit fireplace. “You called him,” he said almost quietly. “And he wasn’t at the house?”

Harry shook his head. “He wasn’t. Only his elf was there, and all he did was laugh and say that Sirius wouldn’t return from the Department of Mysteries.”

"Harry, aren't you saying too much?" That was Ron's voice. Harry looked at him and Hermione, finding them sending wary looks at the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle seemed completely lost, but Parkinson’s eyes were wide and Nott’s jaw was clenched. Harry was fine with Parkinson hearing, but Nott-

"Call him again." His attention went back to Draco, who was looking at him seriously, not deterred at all when Harry scowled at the suggestion. 

_Why didn’t he understand?_ "I already called him!"

Harry barely managed to catch the twitch of Draco’s right eyebrow before the blond’s patience snapped. "Harry, that bloody elf was at the Manor on Christmas! You can't trust it." 

“ _Him_ ,” hissed Hermione, but no one paid her attention, because what Draco had said was way more important. 

It made Harry’s anger waver, giving way to confusion and a deep pang of betrayal. "What?" He took a step back. Kreacher had disappeared during that time, but if he had gone to Draco's house, to his parents… 

" _Draco_ ," came Nott's voice. There was a clear warning on his tone, but Draco ignored him, his stormy eyes still fixed on Harry.

"Call the house," he repeated. His shoulders were a tense line and there was a tremble to his voice, but Harry couldn't tell if it was out of anger or something else. 

“Why didn't you tell me?" said Harry. If Draco knew of Kreacher, Lucius did, and that meant Voldemort did too. It had to be the reason why he had been taken away, and everything could have been stopped if Harry had known before. 

Draco's silver eyes narrowed, hard like steel and directed at him. "For the same reason you didn't tell me _where_ you spent Christmas or just _who_ your godfather is," he said coolly and Harry immediately felt stupid, because he had been hiding things from Draco but never stopped to think that Draco might have been doing the same.

“What did Kreacher say?”

“Enough.” 

“Harry,” Hermione had run to his side to whisper and Harry listened to her without taking his eyes away from Draco’s. “If Kreacher has spoken then _they_ must know about Sirius. It _has_ to be a trap.” 

Draco scowled. “It’s obviously-”

“That’s enough!” Nott’s outburst managed to drag the attention of the room away from the pair and towards him. Harry had never heard him raise his voice like that, or seen him so furious. “Not another word, Draco.”

Draco did look at him this time, turning around to meet his angry glare with a neutral one. Then the blond looked down, worrying his lower lip with his teeth as he frowned at the floor for a moment before returning to Harry. He took a deep breath and said, “Just call the house.”

“Draco!” Nott was becoming angrier by the second, his face was red and his wand was starting to rise, despite Parkinson’s hold of his arm. 

“Harry, look at me.” It was spoken as an order, but Harry didn’t miss the uncertainty on his voice. Their eyes met and Draco nodded at him firmly, as if trying to calm him down. Or maybe to calm himself down. “Call the house.”

Harry was losing time. Sirius could be dying right now. Could have already died, or been tortured so much he had become like Neville’s parents. “There’s no use calling again, Kreacher won’t say anything else and I’m-” He was losing Sirius, and that made his panic rise up again, his heartbeat drumming on his ears and his hands twitching for something to do.

“Harry,” said Draco and Harry’s world halted at the change of tone. It was low and pleading, not unlike the one Hermione had used before. She had been scared, and it was clear now that Draco was too. “Trust me.”

There was no time at all, and Harry wanted to yell at Draco for making him waste it, but he couldn’t, not when the blond was looking at him like that. “It has to be quick,” he said, already turning around towards the fire. 

He didn’t hear Draco’s reply, only his steps as he approached him. A yell and the sound of a scuffle behind him made him glance back. Crabbe and Goyle were holding back a furious Nott, who tried to free himself. 

“Draco, you idiot.” Nott’s voice trembled from the struggle and raw anger. “You are making a huge mistake!”

Even as he didn’t let go of Nott, Crabbe seemed shaken by his words and exchanged a worried look with the others. Parkinson grimaced. “Draco,” she said, sounding nervous. “Maybe you should think it better.”

“Grimmauld Place,” hissed Harry at the flames, low enough so no one would hear. The orange flames flickered green and he turned to look up at Draco. The blond was staring at the fireplace without moving and Harry wanted to ask what was wrong but he didn’t have the time. “Draco-”

Draco snapped out of it and looked at the flames again as if finally seeing them. Harry was expecting him to kneel next to him but instead of that Draco bared his teeth and shouted, “Kreacher!” 

His voice startled Harry, because it sounded completely pissed, as if he was outraged at having to say anything in the first place, as if he expected the elf to already be there. He called Kreacher like Lucius had once called Dobby and Harry could only stare. 

A head with long ears popped in the fire, it's usually narrowed-in-disgust eyes completely open in surprise and anticipation. “Master Draco?!” said the Kreacher with delight. “The son of Miss Narcissa. Oh, what a noble master, his blood is so pure-”

“Shut it,” hissed Draco, and the elf immediately did, as if he had never spoken a word in his life before, and blinked at Draco adoringly. “Tell me where is Sirius Black. Now”

Harry had never seen Kreacher look so affected by something, so much that he started pulling his ears in a way that could only be painful. “Why is the little master asking Kreacher that?” croaked the elf, his old eyes snapping to Harry with fury. “It’s Potter’s fault!” he accused in a shrill voice. “Potter is making Master Draco ask Kreacher! But Kreacher won’t speak!”

Draco opened his mouth and Kreacher pulled at his ears even harder, as if trying to tear them apart before they could hear what he was about to say next. “It’s an order,” hissed the blond and the elf let out a whimper.

“No, no,” mumbled Kreacher, but Harry could see him begin to crack and he realised just then why Draco could order him around.

He felt like laughing. “You have to obey him,” said Harry, looking at Kreacher as the elf let out another choked sound. “He is in the tapestry. He is from the Black Family. You _have_ to obey him.”

“Kreacher.” Draco’s cold voice promised backlash, and only grew angrier when the elf tried to scurry away, “I haven’t given you permission to leave, I’m _ordering_ you to tell me where Sirius Black is.”

“No! Master Draco, don’t ask Kreacher!” The elf was on the verge of tears, his voice trembling noticeably. “The half-blood will hear! It’s against Miss Cissy’s orders, against Master Lucius’ orders-”

A yell came from behind them. “You heard him. It’s against your father’s orders. You know what _that_ means!” spat Nott with renewed anger, trying to shake Crabbe and Goyle off to no avail. “Let me go, you idiots, he’s about to doom us all!” The boys didn’t concede and Nott addressed Draco again, voice low and menacing. “This is the last warning, Draco. Stop right now!”

“Tell me.” Draco’s voice was cold, indifferent to the way the elf flinched as if he wanted to get away but was stuck to the floor. “Tell me right now. I’m ordering you-”

“He is in the house!” yelled Kreacher, immediately letting go of his ears to hit himself in the head repeatedly with his small hands. It reminded Harry of Dobby’s episodes whenever he disobeyed Lucius. “He is upstairs,” croaked Kreacher again, as if he couldn’t help himself. “He is upstairs, Master Draco!”

Harry let himself fall back on the horrid pink carpet as he took in what the elf had said, his heart feeling as if it had stilled after a long run at once, his breath just as missing. “He is safe,” he said under his breath. 

“Merlin's pants,” Ron said what everyone in the room was thinking.

All eyes were on Draco, whose own were still fixed on the fireplace where Kreacher kept whimpering. “Kreacher had to keep Master away from the fireplace,” said the elf miserably. His big eyes were teary and his long nose wet. “So Potter couldn’t reach him-” The elf hiccuped and broke into a devastated wail. “Kreacher has failed! Kreacher has failed the Masters! Kreacher has failed the House of Black!”

Among the cries, there was a sudden mirthless laugh. Nott had finally freed himself from a stunned Crabbe. “Now you have done it, Draco.”

“Shut up,” said Draco, but his voice lacked the fire it had a few moments ago. Despite Kreacher having obeyed, the blond didn’t look victorious at all.

Nott bared his teeth. “No, I’m not going to shut up.” His thin frame irradiated unadulterated hatred and disgust. “I did that all year because you said you _knew what you were doing,_ because you promised that you _wouldn’t make a mistake_ , that you _wouldn’t forget who you are loyal to_.” 

It was a familiar speech, but instead of Sirius' concern, Nott’s harsh voice was laced with anger and made Draco wince. Harry jumped to his feet and stood in front of him, glaring at Nott over Draco’s shoulder, but Nott only spared him a disdainful glance before addressing Draco’s back again.

“Go on.” continued Nott, his voice dripping poison. “Do it, Draco. Seal the lid of your tomb. Because _surely_ the elf could just be lying again, right? Maybe Black is truly dying right now.” 

Harry’s eyes flickered back to Draco’s in alarm, finding them already fixed on him, pretty, silver and still so hard to read. Harry could only look in heavy silence, waiting for the blond to find whatever he was looking for.

“Keep digging your hole, Draco.”

“Theo!” hissed Parkinson, but her voice trembled and she reached to grab on Goyle’s arm like she needed something to hold onto. “Just leave him alone.”

Nott paid her no mind. “Do it, you fucking-”

“Kreacher,” called Draco. The elf whimpered to let him know he had heard, but neither Harry nor Draco looked away from the other until the latter found his answer. He paid no mind to Kreacher's pleas and said, “Call Sirius Black.”

Kreacher cried as he scurried away, his wails loud enough to be heard even as he ran upstairs. And as soon as they were out of reach another cruel laugh left Nott. Draco took a deep breath, as if bracing himself before turning around to finally meet his housemate’s anger.

“There it is,” said Nott, his voice now flat. “Congratulations, you have done it. Just wait until your father hears-”

“Leave him alone!” snapped Hermione.

Nott snarled. “Don’t talk to me, you filthy mudblood-”

“Shut it,” warned Draco.

Nott reeled back, face open in surprise before twisting in anger. “Right, that’s your type of company now, isn’t it?” There was repulsion in his voice, like he couldn’t even stand to look at Draco. He let out a startled laugh. “I never thought I would live to see this,” he said with incredulity. “To see _Draco Malfoy_ become a blood traitor.”

Crabbe's eyebrows went up to his hairline and Parkinson let out an audible gasp and grasped on Goyle’s arms tighter, while said boy’s jaw fell slack. Harry could have almost laughed at their reactions, at how shocked they were at a simple word, a word that the Weasleys joked around with all the time. 

But he didn’t, because he saw the way Draco sucked in a breath as if hurt, and then he felt even more disheartened when Draco’s voice trembled when he spoke. "I'm not a-" 

“Oh, you are not?” repeated Nott mockingly. “Because from where I am standing, you are not only associating with a mudblood,” he gestured at Hermione, “but also with the largest family of blood traitors,” he scrunched his nose at Ron and Ginny. “And what have you done just now other than betray your own blood?” 

“I didn’t-” Draco stammered, his voice trembling in a way it shouldn’t, sounding so uncertain that Harry had to reach for him. But the hand on his shoulder didn’t seem to calm Draco at all, instead making the blond whip his head towards him with desperation on his silver eyes. “Harry, I’m not, right?”

Harry could only stare back, trying to come up with the correct answer. For him, being a blood traitor wasn’t bad at all. It was something good, even. But how could he say that when Draco seemed so shaken by the very idea?

Nott laughed again. “Oh, you are,” he said, giving Draco a pitying smile that turned into one of contempt. “You are, and I have no business associating with the likes of you.” He paid no mind to Draco’s flinching and snatched his wand off Crabbe’s slack grip, then turning around towards the door. 

He stopped to address the other Slytherins before exiting. “I can only hope you three are smarter than him,” he said coolly, and then slammed the door shut. 

The silence lasted only a few moments, until Parkinson seemed to snap out of shock and recover her posture. “Draco, he’s just-” She grimaced and reconsidered her words. “I’ll go talk to him. Vince, Greg, let’s go.” The boys didn’t immediately follow, too busy throwing puzzled glances towards Draco, and Parkinson had to drag them out of the room. 

And then Draco was the only Slytherin standing in front of all the Gryffindors, that kept exchanging uncertain looks between them. Harry’s hand didn’t leave Draco’s shoulder and the other went to hold his arm, but he still had no idea what to say.

The fire flickered to life behind them once again with a crack and Sirius' confused voice filled the silence. “Harry? Why did Kreacher just cry all the way to my room? Did something happen?” 

Harry’s head snapped back towards the Floor, finding Sirius concerned eyes on him. His face was made of fire, but it was completely unharmed, no trail of blood nor the other signs of injury Harry had seen on his vision. A wave of relief coursed over him, so strong he was surprised it didn’t tumble him over. “Sirius, you are alright,” he breathed out.

Sirius blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be? Why are you all here?” He looked around the room, gaze travelling from the Gryffindors to stop at Umbridge. “Is that Umbridge? Did you-?

“Not us,” said Ginny quietly. She gave Draco and odd look before placing a hand on Neville’s shoulder to call his attention. “Nev, help me carry her out of here” she cocked her head towards Umbridge, “There’s a broom closet nearby, let’s lock her there for the meantime.”

Neville fumbled for his wand, his months at the D.A letting him cast the spell quite quickly and along with Ginny, he levitated the woman out of the room. If her head hit the door with a loud thud as they exited, no one complained. 

“Why is my dear cousin here?” asked Sirius suddenly. He was frowning now. “Did you tell him-?”

“Didn’t need to, Kreacher did,” said Harry. Without letting go of Draco, he told Sirius what had happened, the vision of him and the order the Malfoys had given Kreacher. His godfather spared Draco a suspicious glance but kept quiet as Harry went on about entering Umbridge’s office and, finally, the Slytherins. 

When he finished, he realized that he had been rubbing circles on Draco’s arms and shoulders absentmindedly, and his eyes went back to the blond’s face. He was worrying at his lower lip, face looking too pale.

“That cursed vermin,” muttered Sirius. Harry looked at him, finding him unsurprisingly disgusted by Kreacher’s acts. But then his head whipped up again. “They are at the Ministry right now.”

“What?” let out Ron. He had been standing quietly to the side with Hermione, but it seemed that Sirius' sudden realisation was too much for him. “Of course they are, it was a trap.”

The man licked his lips. “But they don’t know we know, which means we can turn this to our advantage,” he let out a snicker that still managed to sound like a dog’s, “Oh, Mad-Eye is going to love this. He will probably let me go along too!”

Hermione gaped, approaching the fireplace quickly in a powerful stride that reminded Harry of Mrs Weasley. “Sirius,” she hissed, “you can’t be possibly thinking of going!”

“Sorry, Hermione, there’s no time.” The man was grinning wildly now, eyes sparkling with anticipation and Harry wanted to smack him. Before he could say anything else, the man was already standing up, only his shoeless feet visible. “I’ll contact you later!”

The connection closed with a flicker of the light and Harry stood there stuck between a laugh and a very loud sigh of exasperation. He knew Sirius was a grown man, but Harry had been wanting to keep him out of danger and there he was running back into it. And Voldemort knew that hurting him would hurt Harry, he knew.

Before the words were out of his mouth, Draco was already snapping at him. “Don’t you dare, Potter, don’t you even _think_ of going!”

Harry’s mouth opened and closed, knowing he had been caught. He couldn’t deny wanting to go with Sirius, even if just to watch his back, because Hermione and Ron were looking at him sternly too, definitely having caught on his line of thought.

“I didn’t just-” Draco seemed to choke at his words and Harry wanted to punch himself because it was just then when he realised what Draco had done.

He had gone against his father’s wishes, against his side’s wishes, and did all that because he didn’t want Harry to walk into a trap. Because he _cared_. And now Harry was thinking of still going after the trap despite all that. So of course Draco was glaring at him defiantly and of course Harry wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m not going,” he promised into his ear and Draco hugged him back tightly. Harry didn’t speak for a moment, blinking at the space behind Draco as he was overwhelmed by emotions. He felt like crying, like laughing, screaming or dancing, but mostly he felt like never letting go of him. “Thank you, Draco,” he murmured. “I thought Sirius was- I thought that I would lose him, and you-” He stopped and brushed his lips against his blond head. “ _Thank you_.”

Draco said nothing, only nodding against Harry’s shoulder once before stepping back. Harry released him reluctantly, watching as the blond pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, let out a long sigh and sat down on Umbridge’s desk. “Well,” he asked, eyes moving to Hermione and Ron for the first time. “What now? As soon as Umbridge wakes up, she will be expelling us. What’s your plan?”

“You are the one that attacked her,” pointed out Ron. The way his voice tilted in amusement told Harry he was trying to light up the atmosphere, but Draco merely hummed absentmindedly, now studying one of the portraits over the desk with disdain. 

The blond scrunched his nose. “Merlin, this woman has an altar to Fudge here,” he turned it around to show the photo of the Minister, looking at them proudly under his green bowl hat. “You should have heard her talk about the man, Pansy is completely sure she is in love with him or something.”

“Draco,” called Hermione, making the blond look at her in surprise. The girl seemed to notice her slip up, but continued nonetheless, “About Nott...”

"Don’t worry about him. All he heard here, my father already knew.” Draco licked his lips and frowned down at the portrait. “Well, apart from my relationship with Scarhead,” he glanced up at Harry, “...or what I have done now.”

Harry shifted from one foot to another. “About Kreacher...was that what you wanted to tell me after the holidays?”

“You still remember that?” Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry, who said nothing, and then let out a sigh. “Of course you do. Yes, I thought I should, since that sodding man is important enough for you to drag me to a cave.” Draco tried for a grin that came out more like a grimace. “But then, well...”

“I didn’t tell you about what I was doing that evening,” finished Harry, rubbing the back of his neck. Of course hiding stuff from each other would lead to this and could have led to worse if Draco hadn’t said anything now. Things would have been resolved so much quicker if they had been more open with each other. 

Perhaps Harry should start with that right then. He licked his lips and glanced towards his friends; Hermione’s eyes widened, as if having read his thoughts, and she shook her head, but Harry’s mind was already made up.

“Draco.” Harry paused, looking for the best way to explain the entire Occlumency business before figuring that he should just say the truth. Even if it was _‘I kind of can read Voldemort’s mind._ ’ “This is a bit hard to explain, but listen-”

“Don’t tell me.” Draco cut him off with a raised hand. “The less I know the better. It’s one thing not telling my father I’m dating you,” he cocked his head to the side, “And another to not say something that could help him.”

“You didn’t tell him about Sirius.”

“I didn’t, but he also didn’t ask and Kreacher was already at the Manor when I arrived, so the occasion never arose.” Draco gave him a little smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s better this way, Scarhead, so don’t say anything, alright?” The blond blinked. “Thinking about it, I shouldn’t even be here right now. “

“What?” Harry watched as Draco stood up, casually letting go of the portrait he was holding, which crashed on the floor. The Minister’s face stared up at them among the broken crystals, as confused as Harry was. 

“Surely my cursed cousin will be contacting you soon,” said Draco as he fixed his hair and robes. “And Salazar knows I don’t want to hear whatever he has to say. So I’m leaving.” He looked at Ron and Hermione. “Weasley, Granger-”

“Oh, please,” huffed Ron. He shook his head in exasperation. “Quit it, we have played chess together and today you stopped Harry from dragging us to the Ministry.” He gave Draco a lopsided grin. “Just call me Ron.”

Draco seemed caught off guard, and Hermione took advantage of that to add, “And call me Hermione.” She shrugged. “I mean, we have studied together.”

“Yes, I do not do that with just anybody,” drawled Draco haughtily, and Harry knew him enough to tell it was a compliment. Then the blond looked terribly uncomfortable, glanced away and gave Hermione a serious look. “We should talk.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “We should, but...”

“Not now,” Draco agreed. He shook his head and turned to Harry. “I better go talk to Theodore.”

Nott could go to hell if you asked Harry. He felt his nose scrunch up in distaste. “Why? He is an asshole.”

“Don’t be _vulgar_ ,” chastised Draco. His eyes went back to the fireplace but left quickly and he gave Harry a thin smile. “And whatever you might think, he is still my friend, and I have to talk to him before he does something crazy like owl my father.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “He would do that?” Draco’s grimace told him enough, so Harry let out a sigh and nodded. “I’ll see you later?”

Draco looked at the fireplace again. “Doubtful. Something tells me it will be a long wait, and you have a lot to do.” He raised an eyebrow at Harry. “You better find a way around Umbridge, because I am not getting expelled over this.” 

“Maybe we can feed her to the Kraken.”

“Leave the poor Kraken alone,” said Draco, then approaching the door. It closed slowly behind him, in an almost polite way, as if grateful for not being slammed.

Harry turned to his friends, and the three of them sat down around Umbridge’s horrid office to stare at the fireplace. As Draco said, it ended up being a long wait, and the clock was near to midnight and Ron had already finished eating through a basket of sweets he found when the fire flickered to life once again.

The green flames startled them, taking their attention from their hushed conversation to the fireplace, just as Albus Dumbledore stepped out.

“Professor?” Harry was the first on his feet. The Headmaster was wearing a purple robe, his half-moon glasses and a serious expression. However, the latter turned to one of tranquillity when he saw them. 

“Hello, Harry,” said Dumbledore with a nod, then turning towards Ron and Hermione. “And Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. It’s always a pleasure, but not much of a surprise, to see you three together in places you shouldn’t be at,” the man glanced around the office, then at the broken portrait on the floor and raising his eyebrows in amusement.

Hermione stood next to Harry “But, sir, what are you doing here? Isn’t the Ministry after you?” 

“After what happened tonight, I’m quite certain that Cornelius will leave that behind, although I'm inclined to believe that he won’t remain Minister much long.” At their confusion, the man only gave them another smile. 

“Were they at the Ministry?” asked Harry. “The Death Eaters.”

“There was a group, yes,” said Dumbledore in an oddly grave tone. “It appears that they were after a certain object at the Department of Mysteries.” There was a finality in his words that told Harry that there was more to it but the man wouldn’t say anything else. At least not then. “What you must know is that not only has their plan failed, but they have also lost their biggest advantage."

Their biggest advantage. Harry could only think of one, and along what the Headmaster had said about the Minister... “Was he there?” asked Harry, and Dumbledore looked at him over his glasses as if prompting him to continue. “Voldemort.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Indeed, he was. Arrived at the very end, and due to him many of his allies managed to escape tonight.” The man raised a finger. “Fortunately for us, Kingsley had been alerted of a break-in at the Ministry and arrived just in time, bringing several Aurors and Cornelius himself with him.”

“So he was seen,” said Ron in awe and Hermione and Harry exchanged a smile. Those were amazing news. Not only because now the Ministry couldn’t deny what was happening anymore, but also because Fudge had to leave Dumbledore alone.

Which also meant they didn’t have to worry about the unconscious woman on the broom closet down the hall. Not now, not ever again.

“However,” continued the Headmaster. “As much we might have to discuss, that can be left for more appropriate hours. I believe it’s well past time you three retire for the evening.”

Hermione hurried to agree, and so did Ron, who had been yawning a lot for the past two hours and fell asleep several times. However, Harry didn’t move. He had a million questions to ask the man in front of him.

“Is Sirius alright?” was the first. 

Dumbledore nodded. “He is, and he was quite enthused to tell all of us _how_ he found out about the plot at the Ministry.” The Headmaster was now looking at Harry curiously. 

Harry felt an odd combination of embarrassment and happiness at that. Because god-knows-what Sirius had been saying, but it was also a reminder of what Draco had done. For him.

"There have been many things we haven't been able to share this year, Harry," continued Dumbledore, voice tinted with sorrow. "After I was made aware of your connection to Voldemort, I feared he could use the consideration I have for you against us. Which is why I thought best to remain apart."

Harry frowned. It did make sense, but Voldemort had still used his closeness to Sirius. And even if that weren't the case, Harry was tired of not being told things. "I understand," he said despite all that, because he did appreciate the man. 

Dumbledore gave him an odd smile. "We have plenty of things to discuss, Harry, but," the Headmaster glanced up at the doorway, "for now, you should go with your friends." 

"Alright," said Harry, too tired to think about formalities. He gave the director one last nod before turning towards the door, but just before he left he was called by Dumbledore's calm voice.

The Headmaster was giving him another enigmatic look. "Love, Harry," he said slowly, his tranquillity the total opposite to the sudden spike of Harry's heartbeat. "Is perhaps the most complicated, and the most beautiful thing." 

Harry ignored Ron's teasing jab, gave the man a nervous nod and excused himself. All the way back to the Tower, he repeated the words on his head. Because not only had the man spoken with weight and confidence that left Harry wondering where they came from, but the words had also confirmed something for Harry. 

What he felt for Draco; the fascination he felt when he saw his silver eyes, the warm feeling on his chest when he heard his laugh, the calm when he heard his voice, the yearning when he wasn’t around, the distress when he was distressed, the craving for his touches. All those feelings and more, so complex and overwhelming, making things hard but also better, brighter, hopeful. 

What else could it be but love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen I was ready to kill Sirius, alright, but that entire plan was orchestrated by the Malfoys and Bellatrix, and Draco probably knew since he was home during the Holidays as well. So here we are! Ending the chapter in a positive note-
> 
> Or are we?
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! It's a long one, I have been here editing for at least two hours haha.
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are welcome with a big hug. And I'll see you on Monday! We are so close to the end of this instalment, and I'm already working on the next! So exciting!


	29. June 21, Friday: Aftermath

_“I’ve got a cauldron full of hot, strong love-”_

The morning after, Harry, Ron and Hermione woke up late to breakfast due to staying up all night discussing what could have happened at the Ministry. Hermione had turned on the Wireless, but it seemed like nothing had reached the media yet, so they ended up talking while Celestina Warbeck played in the background.

 _“- and it’s bubbling for you!_ ” sung Ron under his breath as they walked down the stairs to the Great Hall. 

Hermione chuckled. “Your mother will be very happy when she finds out you are a fan of Celestina too.”

“Oh, shut up, it’s not my fault the song is catchy. Besides,” he sent Harry a teasing grin, “I’m sure one of us liked the songs more, right, Harry?”

“Yeah, you were humming them all morning.” Harry grinned back but didn’t slow down. He hadn’t seen Draco since last night and was worried about how he would take the news. Or how his friends would take the news. He glanced at the galleon on his hand, still with no engraved message. 

The big doors to the Hall were wide open, and from the stairs Harry could see it bubbling with energy, as the students talked to each other over the noise, some even having stood from their tables to talk to their friends, bringing their copies of the Prophet with them.

“It’s out, the truth is finally out,” said Hermione as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She gave them a bright smile and the three of them hurried into the Hall. 

The first thing they saw was the noticeable absence of Umbridge’s awful pink. Her spot had been rightfully claimed by Dumbledore, who remained calm in the middle of the chaos. His eyes caught Harry’s as he walked in and looked away perhaps a tad too quickly.

The second thing they noted was the flutter of green and dark robes and a warning yell before Parkinson marched over from her table and shoved a newspaper at Harry’s chest harshly. “This is your fault!” she hissed, stepping forwards again and being stopped by a sudden hand on her shoulder as Blaise caught up with her. 

“Hey, what’s your problem?!” asked Ron harshly, but the girl all but ignored him, blazing eyes fixed on Harry with fury.

Harry looked down at the Prophet, finding the big bold letters in the front page announcing what he had known since last year; _‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Returns.’_ it said, and under were the brief words of Fudge saying the same thing. They were good news, but the looks both Slytherins were sending him said the opposite so he kept reading. 

_No_. His heart sank when he reached the next section and his eyes snapped to the Slytherin table. Draco was nowhere to be seen. “Where is he?”

Parkinson snarled at him. “This is your fault! Your fault only!” she yelled, not caring about the attention they were drawing, about how Mcgonagall was making her way from the High Table. “If you hadn’t drawn him into your stupidity-!”

Nott wasn’t in the Slytherin table either. His father had been seen and was on the run along with others like Bellatrix. But Lucius hadn’t had the same luck. “Shit, Parkinson, where is he?” he asked. “Is he okay?”

Blaise gave him a dark glare. “His father is in Azkaban, what do you think?” 

_Fuck_. Harry turned to leave but Parkinson moved to stand in his way, wand firmly pointed at his chest and drawing gasps from the crowd. “You have done enough,” she said coldly. 

“Miss Parkinson!” came McGonagall’s yell, making the girl glance at her, and that split second was all Harry needed. He made a break for it. An enraged shout was heard and a jinx zoomed by his ear, followed by a ruckus. 

He was halfway to the Dungeons when he heard the discussion, loud enough to be heard down the hallway and make Harry rush over. 

“You are dead!” yelled one of them, but there were no jinxes uttered and as Harry rounded a corner, he saw why. Nott and Draco were glaring at one another, each held back by Crabbe and Goyle respectively. “Let me go, Vincent!” snapped Nott. “You know what he has done!” 

Crabbe didn’t relent. “We don’t fight each other,” he grunted, sounding deadly serious. The boy winced when Nott kept kicking at him.

“He’s not one of us!” hissed Nott, turning his gaze to Draco again, head low like a creature ready to strike. “He’s just a fucking traitor-”

“Sod off!” snarled Draco, advancing with enough force to make Goyle stumble, but not enough to loosen his grip. “I can’t deal with you right now, Theodore. My father-”

“Is in Azkaban because of you!” completed Nott, lips curling up in sadistic pleasure when Draco fell quiet. “You sent your own father to Azkaban, Draco, and mine might end up there as well! Are you happy now?” He let out a dark laugh. “You betrayed your people, and why did you do it?”

Draco’s head dropped. “Shut up.” 

“All for Potter,” spat Nott. “Who is probably up there celebrating your father’s incarceration with the rest of the scum. Oh, you are so fucking pathetic, Draco-”

He didn’t finish his line, because Harry had crossed the hall and smashed his fist on his face, too fast for Crabbe to react. “Fuck you, Nott,” he said coolly, tightening his fist once more. It stung from the contact, but Harry would do it again. 

Nott was held up by a startled Crabbe, who let him go when the boy scrambled to his feet. Instead of hitting Harry back, Nott brought a hand to his bleeding lip and chuckled lowly. “Of course, Draco can’t even fight for himself, needs his boyfriend to-”

A blaze of light flew past Nott, making him halt. Harry turned around, finding Draco with his wand clenched on his left hand. “Shut. Up,” he gritted out, wrenching his right arm from Goyle’s hold. His eyes met Harry’s and he turned on his heel.

“Come back here, you coward!” yelled Nott, and Harry spun around to shut him up again but this time Crabbe stood up in front of him, meeting his frown. Harry scowled at him, directed one dark glare at Nott and went after Draco, breaking into a run as he rounded the corner he had disappeared behind.

The blond had sped up and didn’t stop when Harry caught up with him. “Not now, Harry,” he said.

“Draco,” he started, but left the words hanging as he walked by him, not knowing what to say. He glanced at his boyfriend’s profile, at his tense jaw and tired eyes that didn’t look at him. “I’m sorry-”

Harry almost crashed into him when Draco spun around. “You are _sorry_?” he repeated, voice low and angry. “Sorry for what? Sorry for my father? I’m under no delusions, Harry, I know you must be happy he got what he deserved-” 

“You think I’m happy about this?”

“Oh, aren’t you?” Draco shoved at him, making him step back. “Everything is going great for you now, isn’t it? Fudge lost his power, Dumbledore is back, everyone knows the Dark Lord has returned. Merlin, I think even Black might be cleared out soon!” Draco let out a mirthless laugh, his silver eyes starting to well up in frustration. “Everything always goes well for you! Always! But now I can’t even blame Dumbledore, no,” his voice cracked as he clenched at his own shirt, “I did this. _Me_ . I _ruined_ my own family, betrayed their trust, after everything they have done for me. And I did it for you! Because you were about to run off on some stupid plan that would get you killed and I couldn’t stand it!”

Harry’s retort died in his throat, and he could only look back as Draco recovered his breath, a devastated expression on his pale face. He wanted to yell at him that it wasn’t true that things always went well for him, that he had been stuck for the Dursleys for years, that his parents were dead, that a mad man was after him.

But he also wanted to take him in his arms, to pull his face into the crook of his shoulder and keep it there until the sadness left his silver eyes. So he just clenched his teeth and waited. _‘Let him lash out,'_ he thought, remembering the last time they had fought. _‘Just listen-’_

“I should hate you,” said Draco in a quiet voice, dropping his arms. “For my family, I should hate you, but I can’t even do that for them.” He hung his head and let out another laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Even after all this, I still feel the same.” 

Harry reached for him and Draco let him, his head falling into the crook of his shoulder as Harry pulled him into his arms. “Why can’t I hate you?” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry-”

Draco shoved him back. “I don’t want your apologies nor need your pity!” he hissed. “You don’t care about my father-!”

“I care about you,” said Harry eagerly, looking at him in the eyes and feeling how the corners of his own fell. “Draco, I care about you so much, and I’m fucking sorry about what happened to your father, I’m sorry _this_ has to happen.” He took in a deep breath. “Draco, I lo-”

“Don’t,” whispered Draco, and Harry froze at the tone. “Don’t say it, not now, when every second with you feels like a betrayal to them. I don’t want to hear it.” 

Harry swallowed the pain and nodded. “What do you want to hear then?” he asked in a low voice. “What do you need from me? Just tell me.”

“Free my father,” said Draco, and when Harry didn’t answer he smiled. “But you can’t do that, so I want nothing, Harry.” He stepped closer and let his head fall on his shoulder. “Just be here for a moment.”

Harry rounded him with his arms. “As much as you need,” he promised and he felt hot tears fall on his shirt. He tightened his hold on Draco as he started shaking and looked up at the ceiling and cursed Voldemort for all the pain he had brought. 

\---

True to his word, Harry stood there with him until Draco stepped back, after what could have easily been an hour. The blond didn’t look at him, but Harry could still see the red ring around his silver eyes as Draco said that he had things to do.

Harry followed him to the Owlery, keeping him company as he wrote and sent a letter for his mother, its contents unknown to him. “She wrote me early this morning,” said Draco as his eagle owl flew away. “She didn’t want me to find out from the papers.”

They sat side by side at the stone bench, Harry in silence while Draco repeated what his mother had said. That his father had been caught at the Ministry, unconscious due to a spell, that he had been aided and immediately rushed into a cell, that his trial would be during summer. "And both of us will go," finished Draco, eyes cast down. "How can I look at him, knowing I put him there?"

"He put himself there." 

"I helped."

Harry looked at him. "I know you probably don't want to hear this, but thank you, for what you did."

Draco didn't say anything for a long moment, and then returned the look. "Harry, are you aware that we shouldn't be together anymore?"

The world froze around Harry, but he clenched his jaw and remained calm. "But we will."

"You have regained your status as Golden Boy, perhaps even more loved now than before. Meanwhile," Draco looked away, "my name couldn't have sunk lower than this."

"I'm not with you for your name."

Draco shook his head. "You don't get it, do you? The word is out now, and the school rumours will reach the outside. Perhaps it won't show up on the papers, since Skeeter is still out of commission, but people will talk."

“I don’t care,” said Harry but Draco didn’t meet his eyes. Harry clicked his tongue and slid to the floor, kneeling before him. “Draco, look at me,” he said, taking his hands into his. “I don’t care.”

Silver eyes met green. “Perhaps you should,” said Draco. “And perhaps I should too. You might be criticized, but I-” he swallowed, “I would be publicly giving my back to my parents. What will they say about a Death Eater’s son that dates one of the people that locked his father up?”

It wasn’t hard to picture after Harry’s own experience with the media. He could imagine the titles, the rumours and the jokes at their expense, at Draco’s expense. He took in the blond’s features and managed to say, “Is that what you want?”

Draco scrunched his nose. “The least I could do is break this off, if I have a sliver of respect for my father-”

“That’s not what I asked,” cut off Harry. He searched for his eyes again, trying to read what was in them. Because he would do anything for Draco if he asked, even something as painful as letting him go, but he needed to know. “Do you want to end this?”

“I should-”

Harry cut him off again. “It doesn’t matter what you should do! Draco,” he took in another breath. “Is it what you want to do? Because if it is I will accept it, even if I hate it, and I’ll still be here for you, but please, just tell me,” He raised on his knees to grab the blond by the shoulders, “Is that what you want?” 

“Of course it’s not what I want, you idiot!” snapped Draco, his teeth bared in anger even as he circled his arms around his neck. Harry sagged in relief as the blond kept speaking in his ear, “I don’t want to, I really don’t want to.”

Feeling his own eyes starting to burn, Harry hugged him back tightly, shuffling closer between his legs to press them together. “I will have your back,” he whispered against his ear, feeling how Draco shuddered. “I promise, I will do everything I can, you know how I feel about you.”

Draco nodded against his shoulder and pulled back with a sob, switching one hand to hold Harry’s face while the other wiped away his own tears. “Shit, look at me. I'm acting like Myrtle,” he said with a small laugh. “You better not tell anyone, Scarhead.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Harry, gazing up at him, taking in the wet silver eyes, the red cheeks and the wobbly smile, and his heart squeezed painfully. He had never thought it was possible to feel so much for someone else, but there he was. 

Draco sniffed. “Good,” he said, and then leaned down to plant a kiss on Harry’s lips. It was slow, wet and salty from the remaining tears, and Harry’s knees hurt against the hard floor, but for him it was perfect. 

\---

It was late when Harry parted ways with him, after successfully avoiding the rest of the student body all day thanks to empty classrooms. It was Draco the one to stand up, fix his clothes and say he had things to do, and Harry had reluctantly agreed, only because he had something to do too.

He had forgotten, among the tumult of emotions from the morning, but as things calmed down he finally remembered the strange look Dumbledore had given him yesterday, the way he had moved his gaze away in the morning, the fact that the man had been at the Ministry. 

“You knew,” he hissed once the door to the office opened. The Headmaster didn’t seem surprised as he rounded his desk and met Harry’s gaze calmly. 

“I knew,” he confirmed.

Harry didn’t appreciate his tranquillity. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded. “You knew about Draco’s father, and you didn’t say a thing, even when Sirius told you about what he did for us.”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed. “Harry, what would you have done if I told you?” The question caught Harry off guard and the man continued, ”Would you have gone to the dungeons and told him?”

“What if I had?”

“You would have brought the news for him after a trying day, when he probably already felt guilty about what he had done.” The Headmaster shook his head. “No, it occurred to me that he deserved the rest.”

“And I didn’t get any say on this?”

“You deserved the rest as well,” said Dumbledore. “I came to the conclusion that it would be better this way; Mr Malfoy would receive the news from his mother, and you would not face the hardship of telling him something so painful.

Harry wanted to kick the man’s chair and break the many objects around, but instead he took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. “What else are you not telling me? About the Ministry, about this year?”

The Headmaster gestured at Harry to sit down. “Can you tell me, Harry, why Voldemort attempted to trick you into going to the Ministry?”

“He wanted something from the Department of Mysteries, he was asking Sirius for that, at least that was what I saw.” Harry crossed his arms. “He wanted something from me?”

“He needed you to grab something from him, and when you didn’t show up he went and did it by himself, because you and he can access it.”

Harry frowned. “What? Why only us?”

“Because it was made for you.” The Headmaster clasped his hands over the desk and talked, about the Hall of Prophecies, about one made fifteen years ago about Voldemort and him, one that would change his life and end his parent’s, that would send him to the Dursleys’ door, that would end up with one of them killing the other.

He said a lot and even then, perhaps of the mistrust for the man that had grown during the entire year, Harry felt that he wasn’t being told everything. He kept hearing the man, taking in every word carefully and wondered what else could be hiding from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go! I'm already working on the next part, but I'll most likely start posting it next year. I'm quite excited about this one (!!!)
> 
> Anyway! How are we feeling? Please leave a comment, even if it's just to say hi. I love hearing your thoughts! Kudos to you if you leave kudos. 
> 
> I'll see you on Thursday for the last chapter of this instalment! Until then!


	30. June 30, Sunday: ...Leads to A Bitter End.

The ride on the Hogwarts Express back to London was completely different from the one at the start of term. Their compartment was way less crowded now, with Luna having gone off with Parkinson, who remained angry at Harry, all sympathies for him that might have been gained during the year gone; Neville and Ginny weren’t there either, and Blaise had excused himself as well. 

So it was just Harry, Ron, Hermione and a very quiet Draco, the table in front of him devoid of any game of chess. The Gryffindors shared a worried look but no one knew what to say; the news of Lucius Malfoy’s upcoming trial had come out just that morning and Draco had fallen into a tense silence that no one dared to disrupt. 

Until Harry finally got fed up, because the blond had a copy of the Prophet on his hands and he kept reading the same article over and over again, no matter how his lips would wobble when he reached his father’s picture, how his fingers would trace his name, and Harry couldn’t take it anymore, so he snatched it off his grasp and Incendio'd it.

For a moment there was stunned silence as the flames consumed the paper and Harry looked at Draco, waiting for his reaction. 

It didn’t take long before angry silver eyes were fixed on him. “Are you trying to set the compartment on fire, Potter?” he hissed. 

“Anything to make you stop.”

Draco clenched his jaw. “Not looking at it won’t make it go away.” He looked at the remains of the Prophet and crossed his arms, turning to look out the window. Harry half-expected him to stay quiet the rest of the ride, but then Draco let out a sigh and muttered, “His trial is in three days.”

“That’s-”

“Too soon? Not really.” The blond smiled bitterly without looking at him. “There’s not much to be said or done. At this point, it’s only a formality.”

“He still deserves a trial,” said Hermione seriously. To her effort, Draco actually looked at her and his gaze lost a bit of harshness. Harry hadn’t been present in the conversation the two of them had held, some days ago at the Library, but whatever they had discussed had put them both at ease. 

Draco managed a small smile. “I appreciate it, but I already know what the verdict will be. I just hope we get to see him before” his voice faltered and he cleared his throat, “before he is sent off. Excuse me for a moment,” he said as he stood up to leave the compartment.

As soon as the door closed, Ron fell back on his seat and let out a sigh. “That can’t be easy at all. I mean, his dad totally deserves it-”

“Ron!”

“He does, Hermione, but,” Ron shrugged. “I don’t know, he's still his dad, and Draco- Merlin, he doesn’t deserve all this shit.” 

Harry waited a beat, then another two, before standing up too. “I’ll just go check on him,” he said, not looking at Hermione because he was sure she would tell him to respect his privacy or something along the lines. _‘Fuck that,’_ thought Harry as he opened the door. Right now, he needed to be there for him. 

It was a shame that the Marauder’s map didn’t work on the train, but it would also be a waste of effort, since there was a single hall. To his left, he could see the trolley witch, so that only left his right. He walked that way, ignoring how other students peered at him through the windows of their compartments as he passed by.

The staring was the same as the start of the year, but now instead of fear or disdain, he was met with admiration and respect. And he hated it even more because he had seen the same eyes turn on Draco with suspicion. 

Rumours had hit the mill, just like Draco had said, because now that Umbridge was gone, Blaise had been more than happy to reveal what had really happened with the Squad, without mentioning what had happened at the office, of course. And when the rest of the D.A had gone to Harry for confirmation and got it, it had spread all around the school. 

So now Draco wasn’t the one that snitched on the D.A, but the one that helped them escape and the one that was still dating Harry, to the fascination of many students. But he also was the one whose father was a Death Eater, so people met him with mixed feelings and Harry wanted to yell at them to mind their own business because Draco didn’t need that shit right now.

And yell he did, sometimes, and would apparently have to do now as well because as he finally reached the end of the compartment he saw Draco standing before the door to the train’s bathroom, scowling at Zacharias Smith.

“-you might have tricked the others and made Potter go along with your lie, Malfoy,” was saying Smith with a smug look. “But don’t even _think_ for a second that you have tricked me. I know the truth, which is that you betrayed all of us just to get on Umbridge’s good side.”

Draco snorted, making Smith bristle. “You have something to say?” said Smith defiantly, crossing his arms and standing up taller in an effort to look intimidating. From Draco’s amused face, he was failing quite badly.

“No, I was just thinking I should have told Vincent to hit you harder with the bludger,” said Draco, giving Smith an infuriating smirk when the Hufflepuff spluttered accusations. 

For a moment, Harry smiled at the scene; it was good seeing Draco back to his usual self, even if it came from antagonizing other people - although, considering it was Zacharias Smith, Harry didn’t mind that bit at all.

But then Smith spat, “You still think yourself so great? You shouldn’t be so smug now that everyone knows what your father-"

His back was hitting the wall before he could finish the sentence. “Shut up,” said Draco in a low voice, threatening like the tip of his wand against Smith’s throat. 

Smith gulped. “Showing your true colours now, aren’t you?” he hissed, voice strained as he raised his chin away from the wand. “Just like your father-”

“I wouldn’t piss him off, Smith, he was my best student,” said Harry coolly, approaching the pair now that the situation had turned bad. His appearance startled Smith, but Draco only spared him a glance. “You don’t want to get jinxed now, do you?” 

“I’m not afraid-” 

Harry scowled. “Just get out of here, Zacharias.” Smith attempted to do so, but Draco’s wand remained where it was, pressing into the Hufflepuff’s skin. “Draco,” said Harry, bringing a hand to lower the other’s arm.

Draco shrugged him off and stepped back, enough for Smith to scutter away with one last offended glare at the blond. “I didn’t need your help,” muttered Draco once Smith was out of sight, having run into his compartment.

“I know, but he did,” said Harry. Draco looked at him with annoyment, let out a huff and pulled him into the bathroom. The door closed behind Harry’s back, pressed against it as Draco scowled at him a bit more before turning around to use the sink. 

It was a small bathroom; big if one considered that it was made for a train and probably had some expansion charm on it, but definitely made for just one person, so a few drops of water fell on Harry’s face when Draco splashed his own. “Hey,” he complained, reaching to wipe them off with his sleeve.

Draco gave him a side look as he dried himself with a towel. “Serves you right for coming after me uninvited. I clearly excused myself because I needed some time alone.”

Harry crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “Can you do that later? We won’t see each other for a while and I’d rather spend as much time as I can with you.” 

“Yes, well, I’m not good company right now,” muttered Draco, eyes fixed on the mirror above the sink. His fingers expertly fixed his hair, which didn’t need any fixing in the first place, and Harry allowed himself to watch him for a moment before retorting.

“It’s not a matter of being good or bad company, I know it must be hard for you,” he said honestly, his words making Draco stop and look at him. Harry rubbed his neck. “I just want to be there for you. I promised I would. Even if it’s just sitting in silence, as long as it’s with you, I want it. ”

Draco blinked at him, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Merlin, Harry, you really mean that, don’t you? You are so embarrassing,” he said, before shaking his head and giving him an amused grin. “Did you eat a Hufflepuff?”

“No, they aren’t tasty.” Harry scrunched his nose in distaste, his heart fluttering when the blond let out a laugh. He looked at his boyfriend and hummed in consideration. “I could try eating you, though.”

Draco stopped for a moment, before laughing even harder. “What the hell? That’s just weird,” he said between chuckles. It was a glorious sound, bright in the middle of the awful day. Harry would miss it terribly during summer, but he didn’t want to bring that up again.

Feigning offence, he stepped forwards and placed on hand on the sink behind the blond, trapping and making him meet his gaze. “You look tasty,” he said in a deadly serious tone as he cupped the back of his head, feeling smug when Draco flushed, and then he leaned forwards and closed his teeth on a spot under the blond’s jaw. 

“Ow! Harry, what the hell,” hissed Draco, giving him a smack on the back and then drawing in a sharp breath when Harry kissed the same spot. “Oh,” breathed out Draco, one of his hands holding on Harry’s shoulder while the other went to the edge of the sink. “Alright,” he whispered and raised his chin, giving Harry better access to his neck.

Harry wasn’t prepared at all. He had been mostly joking, but now that he could see the extension of pale skin bared for him, he couldn’t help but kiss it again, just below the ear. Draco tightened his grip on his shirt and let out a groan, the sound making Harry’s blood rush and, out of an impulse, he stuck his tongue out and tasted his skin. 

Draco let go of the sink to tug at Harry, pressing their bodies together and making both of them groan. “Shit,” let out Draco and Harry would have said a remark about his language if he wasn’t too preoccupied with his neck, nibbling at the skin before soothing it with kisses, drawing small noises from the other that added to the heat pooling at his lower stomach.

A shaky breath left Draco, his hand closing in a fist around Harry’s shirt. Harry could picture him clearly, with flushed cheeks, parted lips and closed eyes as he shuddered and panted. The bathroom was starting to feel too warm, and the vague idea of kissing Draco’s skin without the obtrusion of his shirt made Harry bite down perhaps a bit too hard, making the other let out a whimper. 

Unfortunately, Harry didn’t have time to enjoy it because at that same moment the door opened quite loudly, making him snap his gaze towards it. A younger student stood there, one hand on the knob as her face began to turn red, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of the water.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” drawled Draco, somehow sounding rightfully offended despite still having Harry pressed to his front. 

The girl spluttered an apology and closed the door with another slam, her steps fast and loud as she ran away. Harry blinked at the door again before turning to Draco, who stared back at him for a long minute before cracking. 

“Her face!” he cried, holding onto Harry as he succumbed to a fit of laughter, his head falling against his shoulder. “Oh, Merlin.”

“You are aware she’s going to tell her friends, right?” Harry let out a sigh. “Should have locked the door.”

Draco chuckled, low and breathy against his ear, making Harry freeze. “Lock the door? Slow down, Scarhead,” he murmured, his grin audible and making electricity run through Harry’s spine. He kept still as he felt those lips move on his neck, hissing when teeth sunk in.

“That hurt,” he said and Draco pressed a kiss to the spot, his soft lips calming the pain his teeth had left and trailing up. Harry let his hand fall to the blond’s waist, finding bare skin from where Draco’s black shirt had ridden up.

Harry slid a hand under the shirt, the blond’s body feeling warm and firm under his palm. There was a hum of approval against his neck, then hot breath followed by a bite that made Harry’s fingers dig into his waist and pull. “Draco,” he hissed on his ear, hearing the blond let out a shaky laugh on his ear that was cut off when Harry moved his hips, grinding their fronts together. 

His pulse spiked up when he noticed his own growing hardness, the embarrassment that made his head heat up overpowered by the desire to do it again, to feel Draco’s too, so he did and heard Draco moan. His grasp on Harry’s shirt tightened as his lips traced Harry’s jaw to the end, mouthing at it before biting down.

The pain cleared Harry’s mind, making him curse and pull back. Draco’s skin was flushed pink and his breath was lacking, but he still had the nerve to grin and snicker at Harry’s glare. “Harry,” he said as he cupped his face with a hand. “You are _pouting._ ” 

Harry’s protest was cut off when Draco kissed him. It was slow and almost lazy, calming like the hand on his jaw, making Harry sigh once they broke apart. Their eyes met again and Draco’s were so bright and beautiful that Harry couldn’t help but give him one last kiss, merely a brush of lips.

“Your hair is a mess,” was the first thing Draco said when they parted and Harry rolled his eyes fondly at that before attempting to look at the mirror. “No, no,” Draco stopped him and brought his hands to Harry’s dark hair. “I’ll do it.”

Harry hummed happily as Draco’s thin fingers threaded through his locks, flattening them into some kind of order. “That’s better, but it still needs another cut,” said Draco once he finished, laughing when Harry sighed dejectedly at his stop. “You know, I have no issue with doing this at our compartment, I’m sure Weasley would hate it.”

“It’s Ron and yes, he absolutely will.” Harry grinned.

\---

The rest of the ride was easier; Harry spent it with his head on Draco’s lap, the blond running fingers through his hair while keeping a conversation with Hermione. It was about the NEWTs, so Harry was all too happy to ignore it, just as he was to ignore the bewildered looks his friends kept throwing at him. 

Honestly, if he wanted to lay down and let his boyfriend spoil him, that was his business only. It felt great and that’s all he cared about, so he would take as much as Draco offered. He opened one eye from time to time, to gaze up at him, and sometimes Draco would look down and smile at him fondly and it was the best feeling in the world.

But then the landscape turned into a city, and their tranquillity burst like a bubble. Harry felt Draco’s fingers tense, stopping their caress as the blond looked outside the window. Harry sat up and took his hand into his. “It will be fine,” he promised in a whisper and Draco turned to look at him and nodded. 

Once the train came to a stop, the blond had recovered his composure. His face bore a neutral, almost bored expression, and it would have almost convinced Harry if it weren’t from the tension on his jaw.

“Hey,” he called, meeting his eyes with what he hoped was reassurance. “You will write to me, right?” 

Draco frowned. “Of course I will, but perhaps not for the first days. I reckon my mother will need some help and she’s hoping we can see him before the trial.”

 _'Before he gets taken away,’_ completed Harry by himself, and even as he nodded and told the blond he would wait, he found himself wishing he could do something about it. Draco loved his father and the thought of never seeing him again had to be painful. 

Parkinson and Blaise passed by the compartment to say goodbye to Draco, the first giving him a fierce hug and the latter patting him on the shoulder and whispering something that made the blond smile. Both of them also gave Harry a dark glare before leaving, which stung a lot.

Draco and he parted ways just before the train’s door, where the blond gave Harry’s hand one last squeeze before holding his luggage firmly and stepping out. The crowd parted around him, the chatter increasing slightly, not that noticeable among the existing noise.

Harry saw him meet his mother. Narcissa Malfoy was still the picture of prim and proper, not a hair out of place nor a single wrinkle on her clothes, but the way her pretty features were pulled down revealed her sadness. Seeing her next to Draco, the resemblance was painfully striking.

“Harry,” called Hermione, making him stop staring and follow Ron and her across the crowded station. Many people stared, whispers following after them, but he paid it no mind as he searched for familiar faces. 

And then he found them and he didn’t care about the crowd any longer. Harry grinned widely as he quickened his step to reach Sirius, standing on his two legs and not as a dog in the middle of the station next to the rest of the Order, finally free. “Harry,” he laughed when the boy hugged him, his hand staying on his shoulder when they parted. “How are you-" His eyes widened as he looked at him. "Oh.”

“ _Harry James Potter_ ,” came Lupin’s serious voice. And Harry turned to meet his chastising gaze with confusion.

“What?” he asked, feeling more confused when Sirius started snickering, even more when Tonks joined in and Moody just shook his head. 

Lupin rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I really need to have a serious talk with you,” he said in a significant way that made Harry flush and turn towards Ron.

“What did you say now?”

Ron gaped. “Mate, are you serious? There’s no need to say anything when-” He was stopped when Hermione jabbed him, an amused smile on her lips that Ron returned. “Nevermind.”

“Harry, there you are!” Mrs Weasley came running and pulled him into a hug, her kind smile turning into one of surprise when she pulled back. “Oh, dear,” she said, exchanging a look with Mr Weasley, who just shook his head in amusement. 

“Good to see you, Harry. I see that you have been well,” he greeted brightly, placing one arm around a disgruntled Ginny’s shoulder. 

“Can we go now?” she mumbled, her hands in a white grip around her luggage. Ron raised his eyebrows at her and was rewarded with an annoyed look. 

Sirius finally stopped snickering about god-knows-what and cleared his throat. “Yes, we should get going. Me and Remus have to find Harry’s aunt and uncle,” he gave Harry a wide grin, “and give them the good news.”

Harry had honestly forgotten about the possibility to live with Sirius, and was now hit with so many emotions he couldn’t help but laugh. “So I can go with you?”

“Not immediately,” said Lupin with a grimace. “There are still some matters to clear up, but it will probably just take a week or so.”

“And then it will be the two of us.” Sirius beamed. “And Moony sometimes, because he thinks I’m not a responsible figure.”

“Because you are not,” said Harry, Lupin, Mrs Weasley and Hermione in unison, making Sirius throw them all a glare. “We will make sure to visit a lot, Harry, don’t worry,” reassured Mrs Weasley, drawing an offended “Hey!” from Sirius. 

With that, Harry said goodbye to the Weasleys and Hermione and went with Sirius and Lupin to search for the Dursleys. They weren’t hard to find, as they stood very close to each other at the corner of the station, throwing suspicious looks at anyone that walked by.

“Hello, you must be Vernon,” greeted Sirius with a sharp smile, not bothering to extend his hand to Harry’s uncle. “I’m Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather,” he added, and Uncle Vernon's face blanched as he recognized him as the deranged psychopath that appeared in the papers almost three years ago.

Disguising his laugh at his uncle’s reaction as a cough, Harry looked at his aunt and cousin. Petunia was staring at the conversation with wide eyes, but Dudley was looking at him weirdly, and then he suddenly slapped his own thick neck with a hand.

Harry frowned in confusion, but when Dudley merely repeated the motion he copied it, wondering if he had something on his neck. And at that moment he remembered Draco’s sharp teeth sinking into it a few hours ago and felt colour rise to his cheeks, realising why everyone had been acting strange. 

Once Petunia was pulled into the conversation by Vernon, Harry found himself shuffling closer to Dudley to mutter a “Thanks, no one warned me.”

“Did your boyfriend do that?” whispered back his cousin. Harry looked at him expecting a mocking look, but Dudley was glancing around the station with curiosity. “Is he here?”

It was perhaps the least hostile interaction he had ever had with him, and feeling startled by it, Harry found himself looking around. Draco’s blond hair was nowhere to be seen. His mother had most likely taken him away as quickly as she could to avoid the glaring crowd. 

Harry sighed. “No, I think he’s already gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the end of this instalment, but not of the story! I'm already working on the next part, but I will probably start posting around January or so! So, until next year??
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter! Do leave a comment and let me know what you think! And ohmygod, thank you all so much for the 1k kudos! I actually screamed when we got there.
> 
> I'll see you soon! Happy Holidays in advance!!


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